Deep In The Heart Of Texas
by PJ XD
Summary: Edward Cullen hates the idea of moving away from New York City to a backwoods Texas town. That is, until he meets a certain golden-haired quarterback, of course. Suddenly, Texas ain't looking so bad after all... E/J SLASH AH OOC - Companion to New York, I Love You, from EPOV.
1. September

**A/N – Hey guys!**

**You may or may not have read my fic, New York, I Love You, but this is a companion to that, from Edward's perspective. I suppose it works as a story on its own as well, so you don't necessarily have to read both to understand what's going on. **

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**As always, I own nothing but my dirty imagination ;)**

* * *

_**One**_

"Are you telling me that you're not even a little bit excited?"

Alice's high soprano voice pipes through the speakers at the side of my computer, and I pause in my pacing in order to throw an incredulous stare in the direction of her pixellated image on-screen.

"Excited? _Excited_? Ali, I'm moving to _Texas_. Not just Texas, but small-town Texas! I'm going to be living in Hicksville; population – who gives a flying fuck!" I curl my tongue over my teeth, trapping my tongue bar in-between them and chewing on it. It's a nervous habit I have, and my mom always tells me I need to cut it out, or I'll chip the enamel on my teeth.

Of course, she also suggests – in that polite-but-actually-pissed-off-deep-down way of hers – that I should never have gotten it pierced in the first place. My dad agrees, but seeing as they're adamant on raising me to be 'My Own Man' they don't make me take it out or anything.

Alice frowns at me from the computer screen for a minute. "I really don't see the big deal about moving to Texas. You're talking about it like it's Mars or something. Don't be such a drama queen, Teddy."

I bristle – both at her calling me a 'drama queen' and at her re-iteration of my long-despised family nickname. _Teddy_. Ugh. It's _Edward_ or it's nothing. Unfortunately, trying to get that through my cousin's little English brain is next to impossible. As is trying to get her to cooperate with anything she doesn't want to. I'm 'Teddy' for life.

"Don't call me a drama queen," I mutter. Then, louder, I say, "I'm not being overly-dramatic. I won't fit in down in Texas, Alice, and you know it. D'you think the Daughters of the American Revolution and their kids are gonna welcome the punk-ass Yankee who also happens to be homo?"

"I dunno, Ted. Maybe they'll surprise you." Alice stretches across her bed, arching her spine like a cat. Her dark eyes meet my green ones – or, at least, the image of my eyes on her laptop screen – sternly. "Or maybe they won't. Either way, it's no use whining like a little bitch over the whole thing. What's done is done. Uncle C has to move for his new job, and Auntie Es, you and Mags are all going with him. End of story. You should try and get on board with it like Maggie has."

Maggie, my little sister, is climbing the walls with excitement about the idea of moving away someplace new. She's never lived anywhere except the city, and she finds the whole process of relocation endlessly entertaining. Of course, pretty much everything is entertaining and novel when you're six. I, being twelve years her senior, am a lot more reticent. I've done this whole 'starting fresh' thing twice before; first when we moved from Chicago to Philly when I was nine, and then the second time was the move from Philadelphia to Manhattan a year later.

This time would be so much worse. I'd liked Philly only so-so, but New York City is my home. It feels right. This is where I belong; in our loft apartment in the Village, surrounded by subway stations and bodegas and fast-paced, ever-changing excitement. I belong here, in the greatest city on Earth.

And yet, I'm kissing goodbye to Knicks games and poetry readings and hanging at the coffee house with my friends. No more of Seth dragging me to Bloomingdales on a Sunday morning because there's a sale on. No more being woken up at five a.m. by phone calls from Leah or Jake or Colin slurring drunkenly and incomprehensibly at me. No, instead, I'll be sitting on the bleachers on a Friday night watching the whole town as they show up en masse to the high school football games, like they're actually important.

Sigh.

"I suppose you're right, Alice." I hear myself saying, although I don't actually believe the words. "Maybe I should give it a chance."

"Besides," she says, holding up one skinny index finger. "You might find a cute boy you like."

In response, I just raise an eyebrow at her.

"What?" she demands.

"You might've met Victoria…" Victoria is Alice's current on/off girlfriend. They met when she moved from Manchester to London when she started university a year ago. "When you moved, but you went from one big city to an even bigger one. I'm going from metropolis to the sticks. I'll probably be the only gay kid around."

Ali rolls her eyes on-screen. "Okay, Mr. Negativity, I can see that I'm really not going to win this argument or convince you of anything. I've gotta go, because Vicky and I are going out to see… um…" She furrows her brow, like she's trying really hard to remember something. "Oh, I dunno, some show or something. I wasn't paying attention when she told me. And you, my darling baby cousin, need to pack your shit. You leave in less than a week, and judging by the state of your room behind you, you've done bugger all so far."

I smile. She's right. That's nothing unusual; the little pixie is _always_ right. "Alright, Ali. Love you."

"Love you, too, Teddy. And call me when you get to Texas. Bye."

My computer beeps as she disconnects and the Skype chat closes down. I walk over and shut down the whole thing. Then I engage in a brief staring contest with my reflection in the blank monitor. My haywire copper hair is sticking up in every conceivable direction today, and I look a little peaky from my nerves.

"You got this, Cullen," I tell myself firmly, and for a moment, I almost believe it.

* * *

The trees flash past the car window, occasionally expelling a bird or two from their dense foliage, and all the while, I stare back at them sullenly. There's so much nature around here. Not a graffiti tag or towering skyscraper in sight.

I hate it already.

Instead of voicing my displeasure yet again, I simply slide further down in my seat and yank on the wire to pull my earbuds out my ears. I shut off my iPod and toss it onto the seat beside me, nearly hitting Maggie as she snoozes against the opposite window. Usually, the steady pounding of classic seventies punk music – in this instance, The Clash – calms me down and cheers me up. Not today. I don't think it's humanly possible for me to cheer up.

I'm in fucking Texas, and I wanna go home.

"Isn't it pretty around here?" Mom gushes when we eventually hit what passes for the town in this tiny place. I look at all the quaint, colonial buildings and shrug noncommittally at her. Truthfully, it is pretty. Very pretty. But I don't want to admit that, because I really don't want to give her the false impression that I'm actually okay with living here.

I'm not.

"It's gorgeous, darling," Dad says, patting Mom's knee with the hand that isn't gripping the steering wheel. "You made a great choice when you picked it."

In Dad's posh English accent, anything sounds charming, and even this tiny bit of praise has my mother blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush. I roll my eyes at them both. They're disgustingly in love, still, after twenty years of marriage.

I've never felt what they have, so I don't know what it's like, but from an outside observer's perspective, I kinda want to brush my teeth after spending too much time in their company.

I doubt I'll ever act that way with someone.

"Ted, what do you think?" Mom twists in her seat to check my expression. "Do you think you'll like it here?"

_About as much as I'd like an appendectomy without anesthesia, _I think, but I say, "I dunno, Mom. Maybe. Maybe not."

Her brow furrows, and she looks kind of upset. "Oh, Edward, please try to make the best of this, won't you? I really want us to make this work." Her voice is so earnest and hopeful that I feel the tiniest twinge of guilt over being such an unbearably moody ass.

"I'll try, Mom," I promise. She beams at me, and her eyes – the same bright green as my own – light up.

Just then, Maggie wakes up with a start, and begins to complain loudly that she's "super-super-extra thirsty" and we need to stop off somewhere for a drink. I don't see the point, myself, considering we're ten minutes away from our new house, but my parents agree instantly, insisting that it'll be nice to 'get a feel of the neighborhood'. I sigh and resign myself to the idea that I'll have to put on a brave face for a few hours longer.

We stop at the only diner in town, and I'm totally dismayed to see that it's packed full of people. An exorbitantly enthusiastic waitress seats us at a booth, flashes me a toothy grin, and then bounces – and I do mean bounces – off to get us some menus. Mom and Maggie are engaged in a game of 'I Spy' and Dad is checking out the surroundings with benign interest. Me? I just stare down at the table, wishing I could just be left alone to wallow in my misery.

I get up to go to the bathroom, just for something to do, and I'm just walking past a table full of girls my own age when one of them calls to me.

"Hey."

I turn. The girl who has spoken has wildly curly dark hair, and is sort of pretty in a country kind of way. She grins at me when I nod a greeting to her.

"I'm Jessica," she says. "What's your name? Don't think I've seen ya round these parts before."

Wow. She actually talks like something out of Dukes of Hazzard. Her accent is so thick that it takes me a second to actually process her words.

"Um, I'm Edward." I turn to walk away, but Jessica reaches out and actually grabs my wrist, locking me in place. My head swivels in her direction again, and I raise my eyebrows.

"Ain't ya gonna come sit down?" she asks.

"I'm here with my family, sorry," I say. I don't want her to think I might actually be interested in her. It'll only lead to the awkward 'I'm gay' conversation, and that's not something I'm looking forward to in such a conservative, Christian town.

"Oh. Well, okay. Are you in town just visitin', or…?"

"No," I say. "I just moved here, actually."

"Oh!" Jessica's eyes go all wide. "Well, in that case, you should come to Lauren's party on Saturday." The girl sitting beside her – a blonde – nods enthusiastically. I assume she's the aforementioned Lauren. "Would be nice ta get your life story 'fore school starts up again."

She and I clearly have conflicting definitions of the word 'nice' but I'm not going to offend her by saying so. I smile and nod. "Sure."

She reaches over and hands me something. Her phone. "Put your number in there, Edward, and I'll text ya 'bout Saturday."

I comply, handing her back her cell and giving her a semi-convincing grin. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"For sure." She beams at me again, and I can't help but wonder if she's really as nice and friendly as she appears.

When I take my seat back at my booth again, Mom looks over at me hopefully. "Honey, look at you! You're making friends already."

_Yeah, _I think. _But for how long? _I doubt that the wholesome country folk down here will appreciate the real me. Once the curiosity wears off, I'm pretty sure I'll be on the receiving end of ridicule that I never really experienced in New York.

Still, I hopefully have a little while before that happens.

* * *

True to her word, Jessica does text me about the party. Lauren's address is only a five minute walk from mine, so, when Saturday comes around, I decide to bite the bullet, get ready, and just go mingle with the locals.

There's a fluttering of nerves in my stomach as I stand and appraise my reflection before I leave. I'm wearing my usual black skinny jeans and a blue-and-white striped top that almost covers the tattoo on my bicep, and completely obscures the Celtic design on my hip. My hair is artfully rumpled up now, rather than just plain old crazy. I actually look pretty good.

It's a shame that nobody _I _find hot will ever appreciate it.

Satisfied that I'm as prepared as I'll ever be, I snatch up my phone and my wallet and take the three flights of stairs – I have an attic room in our new house – down to the front door. Yelling a quick goodbye to my parents, I pull open the front door.

And smack straight into the screen door.

"Ow! Motherfucker!" I hiss, rubbing my face. I'm still not used to even having a damn screen door, so I keep doing that. I hear a low reprimand about my language issuing from through the open living room door. Muttering an apology, I _carefully_ let myself out properly.

I jog straight down the porch steps and along the drive, skirting around the end of a silver Volvo parked there.

Then I register that there's an unknown silver Volvo in my driveway and double back. I stare at it for a moment wonderingly. It's new – only this year's model – and shiny in the dying evening light.

"Do you like it?"

I whip around at the sound of my dad's voice, to find him leaning against one of the porch pillars, watching me with amusement dancing in his gray eyes. He's wearing the same smirk that I see so often in the mirror.

"Yeah, it's great. Whose is it?"

"Yours."

No fucking way! I scrutinize his face to see if he's kidding.

He's not.

"Son of a bitch, Dad, you got me a car?!"

He brushes back a few blond strands from his forehead and gives me an amused grin. "Yes, we got you a car. We figured that you might need one, now that you can't take the subway everywhere."

I nod, turning back to regard my car with wonder. I'd never actually owned one before, even though I'd passed my test at sixteen. Reaching out one hand, I run it along the hood lovingly. "This is… wow. Thank you."

"You're welcome, son. Don't you have a party to go to?"

I think he senses that I'm tempted to blow off the night at Lauren's and just go and take my new wheels for a spin. He shakes his head at me, almost imperceptibly. "Go have fun. You can go driving tomorrow."

I sigh, but I obey his directive. Assuring him that I won't be back late, I thank him again and then set off towards Lauren's place.

It's crowded when I arrive, and I don't recognize a single face here. Teens are hanging all over the porch, clutching onto bottles of beer or each other as they laugh and joke and make out. For a moment, I can almost pretend that it's just another party back home, and that any second Seth with come up behind me, pinch my ass and make some sort of wildly inappropriate sexual suggestion. I smile nostalgically at the thought.

I miss my best friend, and I'm really not in the mood to go and make another one, but I suck it up, square my shoulders, and step forward into the unknown.

No sooner have I made it three steps into the hallway when a girl literally tumbles into my arms. I catch her instinctively, my hands wrapping around her elbows. She tosses back long, mahogany hair and blinks up into my face with chocolate-brown eyes that are hazy from the amount of alcohol she's had. She's too pretty to be so wasted, I think.

"Oh, um, hi." She blushes magenta and gives me a tentative smile. "I'm real sorry for fallin' into ya like that."

The pretty brunette seems sweet enough, so I merely smile at her and say, "Don't worry about it, hon. We all get a bit unsteady when we've had a few."

Her nose wrinkles. "Well, yeah, but I can't really blame it on the alcohol. I'm just real clumsy, anyhow." She sticks out her hand. "I'm Bella Swan, by the way."

"Edward Cullen." I put my hand in hers. We shake. She's all dainty and shit, and there's something hopelessly adorable about her that I instantly like.

"Bella!" A voice booms out, and a minute later, her grip is wrenched from mine as she's lifted clean off her feet by a guy with spiky blond hair. She giggles drunkenly as he swings her around.

"Mike, put me down! You don't wanna keep doin' that. I'll hurl."

The two of them immediately begin to engage in some playful banter, and I watch for a couple of seconds before slipping away through the crowd. Jessica and a few of her friends are hanging out in the living room, and I go through to say hi. She encourages me to down a few tequila shots, which takes the edge off my nerves. All in all, the people I talk to are fairly pleasant. Not as witty as the ones back home, but nice enough.

Maybe Texas isn't so terrible after all.

About an hour into drinking, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. Jessica gives me some quick instructions as to how to get there, and I set off up the stairs, lost in my own thoughts.

About halfway up, I feel something slam into me, hard. I stagger backwards, catching myself on the banister before I end up flying backwards down the stairs. My hand flies to my forehead, and I wince.

That's the second time my head's been bruised today.

"Ow!"

"Fuck!" I spit out, I narrow my eyes at whoever has just been clumsy enough to walk into me. "Watch where you're going will you?"

And then I actually focus on him.

My first thought is; _Holy. Fucking. Hell_.

He's _gorgeous_. Tall, lean muscles, with short curls the color of honey and eyes that are a deep, dark blue. He's all chiseled and tan, with his angular features and full, pouty mouth. He's so fucking hot that I think I might get third degree burns from touching him. I'd risk it. Thank God for skinny jeans, because they're too tight to display the instant erection I'm now sporting as I look down on him, sprawled out on the stairs from where I've knocked him on his ass.

Every guy I've ever jacked off thinking about pales in comparison to this fucking god among men.

"Sorry," he drawls, picking himself up. He's got the grace of a natural born athlete as he moves, and I don't think he's been drinking all that much. "I didn't see you comin'."

_Fuck me_. I'm practically coming just listening to his deep, husky accent. Seth's gonna die when I tell him about this guy. Alice, too.

"No," I say, and a slight smirk plays about my lips. "I didn't either." _But I will be, later, thinking about you…_

He moves past me, not touching, and continues on down the stairs. For a second, I'm tempted to go after him, but I decide that I need to play it cool. I don't really want to come out to my new classmates at a party after being caught shamelessly ogling some guy.

Even though nobody would be able to blame me.

I get halfway up the steps and then turn back to look at him. Damn, he's got a nice ass. He swivels round a second later, like he can feel me eye-fucking him, and glances up at me. His eyes are really fucking blue. Incredible.

"You new in town or somethin'?" he asks.

_God, that accent… _

My knees are a little weak as I answer. "Just moved here with my parents a couple days ago."

"Oh." He pauses, considering. "Where're you from?"

"New York." And, up until a minute ago, I would've emptied my bank account to get back there. Now, looking at him… maybe I won't bitch so much about sticking around. He's got to be the hottest guy on the entire motherfucking planet. My eyes are drawn to the slight frown turning down the corners of his perfect mouth. I turn away from him again when I feel my dick throbbing painfully against my jeans.

"I've always wanted to go to New York," he blurts out, and I turn back to face him. There's earnest curiosity in his expression, and also a hint of… desperation? But over what? "What's it like? Livin' there, I mean?"

He sounds wistful, I decide. Maybe a little envious. Very unlike everyone else I've spoken to so far. They're all so 'Texas forever' – I doubt any of them have ever even considered going on holiday anywhere else. For them, the whole world is their backwoods little town.

This guy is looking at me like… like he wishes he could swap places. Interesting.

I decide to play with him a little, because I really want to flirt, even though I know it's probably futile.

Mustering up my best imitation of his Texas drawl, I lean against the wall and say, "Livin' there? Well, gosh, darlin', I just don't think it's a patch on this li'l town."

He looks totally confused for a moment. His eyes widen, and his lips part in surprise. I smirk down at him, entertained by his reaction. He doesn't seem to know whether I'm making fun of him or not.

"It was just a question," he says defensively, meeting my eyes in a bold stare. "No need to be so damn sarcastic."

I'm instantly contrite. I don't want to piss off the beautiful boy in front of me. "Sorry, I'm not used to being around people with manners."

Truer words were never spoken. My friends, wonderful creatures that they all are, are about as polite as a punch in the face. Then again, I can't talk. I don't do social graces.

He's still watching me with those hypnotic eyes. "What, didya grow up in the wild or somethin'?" he challenges, and I laugh.

Funny and handsome. Sigh.

"I grew up in the city. It's basically the same thing."

He seems to cast about for something else to say, and I capitalize on his distraction by drinking him in with my eyes. There's something familiar about him, but I can't quite place it.

Then it clicks; the huge picture of the football team in the diner. I'd asked the waitress about it, and she'd talked about how the whole town worshipped their blond haired, blue eyed, 'hella talented' quarterback, Jasper Hale. She'd said his name with a dreamy sigh.

If the Adonis in front of me is the man himself, I can totally understand why.

"You're Jasper Hale, aren't you?" I ask. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, and I take his lack of a correction as confirmation. "Seems like everywhere I've gone for the past couple days, I've heard about you. The golden boy. The quarterback."

He scowls at my words, and once again, I'm struck by what an anomaly he is. Most guys would accept that praise with a grin and a swagger, even if I did say it a little derisively. Jasper looks almost like he resents the label.

His eyes meet mine again, and his lip curls. Yeah, he's definitely annoyed. "That's funny, because I've heard jack shit about you."

I laugh again. I can't help it. He's refusing to back down from my sarcasm, and I really like that. The fact that he's giving me attitude back when everyone else here seems unswervingly polite, is…

Well, it's hot.

"Yeah," I say, nodding my approval at him. "I think you and I are gonna be great friends."

He looks completely bewildered by that comment, and it's too fucking adorable. I shoot him a grin, and then make my way up the stairs again, resisting the urge to glance over my shoulder at him.

Jasper Hale puts New York men to shame.

For the rest of the party, I can't stop thinking about him. I don't concentrate on anything that anyone else says to me. My eyes scan the crowd for Jasper, and I'm disappointed every time when I can't pick him out.

And then I'm walking past the kitchen in search of more booze when I hear his honey voice.

"Well, I dunno 'bout 'dreamy', Bells. If I had ta sum him up, I'd say Cullen's more 'scathin'' or 'cocky'."

I laugh, leaning against the doorframe to watch him. The muscles of his back are visible through the thin fabric of his t-shirt as he stands with his hands braced on the breakfast island, chatting to Bella Swan, the sweet, clumsy girl from earlier. I wonder if he even noticed that she's unconscious, perched on the countertop with her head resting against one of the overhead cabinets.

Jasper stiffens at the sound of my laugh, and immediately whips around. His eyes go like saucers when he sees me, and he gives me a sheepish sort of half-smile. I can tell he's embarrassed at having been caught talking about me.

"Cocky, huh?" I tease, smirking at him. "You don't even know me, Hale."

Jasper leans back against the counter slightly, trying to muster up some bravado. I watch his Adam's apple bob as he gulps. "I'm just callin' it like I see it, Cullen."

"Fine." I say. And then, abruptly, I want to give him my honest observations, too. The way he fits in perfectly, even though he doesn't want to. I don't know whether it's cowardice or expectations that keep him stuck in his little mold, but I want to find out. "Then let me call it how _I_ see it. You are, without a doubt, the saddest person I've met since I got here."

He flinches. "What do you mean?"

I push off the frame and walk slowly towards him. Jasper backs up, but there's not really anywhere he can go. He seems to sense it, too, because he looks faintly panicked when I lean in and brace my hands on the counter, just outside of his. I can feel the heat coming from his body, and our proximity is turning me on so badly that I think I might actually pass out.

"I'm trapped," he says unnecessarily. His voice is kind of shaky, his lips slightly parted. He's breathing kind of fast, and his eyes look darker than they did before.

"I know you are." I murmur. Being this close to him has me straining against my jeans again, and I pray that he doesn't notice. "That's my point. You're trapped in this little life, in this little town. You're too stuck to move, and it's killing you."

He's looking at me in wonder. No, that's not right. Utter disbelief is more like it. I know I'm right, just from the expression on his face. It's like he's worried that I'm reading his mind.

"What makes you think that?" he says breathily.

Wait, breathily?

"It's just this look in your eyes…" And as I regard him again, I suddenly notice that his eyes look darker than they did before. His pupils are dilated. Big time.

_Fuck… am I… is this turning him on?_

Dare to dream, right?

I continue talking without really hearing myself. I'm more focused on the minutia of his expressions, trying to gauge whether or not it's wishful thinking that I might be having some sort of effect on him, too. "You had it when you asked me about New York. It's like… like wistfulness. Only not. It's more than that…" I trail off. "I dunno, I just got this _feeling_ about you when I ran into you on the stairs. I know I'm not wrong. You hate it here as much as I do."

Jasper sucks in a deep breath. It's ragged, strained. So fucking sexy.

_Please be into this. _I pray. But it would be too good to be true, surely? No guy gets that lucky.

"I like my life," Jasper whispers. I honestly can't even remember what I said that he's responding to, but I jump on the statement, calling him out on his lie.

"No, you don't." I shake my head for emphasis. "You're bored out of your mind. You're counting down the days until you can graduate, take off and never look back at this place again."

He's breathing really heavily now, but the panic is still in his eyes. There's something else, though, something I can't quite put my finger on.

"Go on," I prompt him silkily. "Tell me I'm wrong."

He doesn't answer, which is really an answer in itself.

"I meant it, Jasper," I say. I like saying his name. It just kind of rolls off my tongue. "When I said that you and I could be great friends. You're the most interesting thing this town's got to offer."

Jasper's reeling from my comment, and he doesn't say anything back. I want to just lean forward and kiss him. I'm starting to think he might actually let me.

Instead, I straighten up. I flash him a crooked smile. And then, because I can't resist, I grip his chin between my thumb and forefinger – which elicits a small gasp of surprise from him – and lightly chuck his chin.

His mouth falls all the way open in astonishment. I hide my smile as I turn away from him, walking towards the door. I can still feel his eyes on me, and I don't have to look to know that he's gawping.

I pull my phone from the pocket of my jeans and open up a text to Seth. I type quickly, and then press send.

The text is as simple as it is true.

_I take it all back. _I wrote. _I think I'm gonna love this town._

* * *

**A/N – If you're reading my other fic, New York, I Love You, then you'll already know Jasper's perspective on this whole encounter. I'm going to update this almost as frequently as NY, now, so look out for another chapter soon. **

**Kisses,**

**PJ**

**x**


	2. October

**A/N - Hey guys! **

**Just wanted to thank you for your comments, and also to say if you haven't read Jasper's version of these events, you should. For no other reason than because I'm shamelessly self-promoting, and also, Jazz's side of the story is much further along in the timeline. **

**I've been writing this out in the sun, enjoying several glasses of Pimms, and I may have overindulged slightly, so apologies for any spelling mistakes/grammar mistakes that I haven't caught. **

* * *

_**Two**_

"Edward…" My mom's sing-song voice rouses me from sleep. I groan and pitch forward, burying my face in the pillow. "Edward… time to wake up, sleepyhead."

"Don't wanna," I grumble, and clutch at the comforter when I can feel her trying to gently tug it away.

"You've got school in an hour," Mom tells me, as though that'll actually be incentive for me to get my ass in gear.

"Not going."

"Yes, you are. Come on, is it really so bad?" She reaches over to brush back my hair, the way she always used to when I was little.

I consider her question. School isn't terrible. I mean, it's not quite what I'm used to, but it's not awful. People are friendlier than in New York, but I don't really make the same effort back. In the near month since senior year started, I've made a ton of acquaintances, but no actual friends.

I kind of prefer it that way, mostly.

Mom continues to gently prod me in the ribs through my duvet, and I twist away from her, sitting up with a groan. "Goddamn it. I'm up, okay? See?" I throw back the covers and slide off the mattress, straightening up.

She just flashes me a dimpled smile and says the three words that make regaining consciousness worthwhile. "I made pancakes."

I jump in the shower, brush my teeth and throw on some clothes quickly, practically racing down the stairs as soon as I catch the first whiff of my mom's blueberry pancakes. Maggie and Dad are already at the table – Dad's drinking coffee and cutting Maggie's pancake into little squares. He glances up at me and grins.

"Morning, son."

"Hey," I cover my mouth to stifle a yawn. "How come you're not at the hospital already?"

"My shift starts at ten," he responds. "So, I said to your mom I'd take Maggie to school."

I nod, just as Mom plates up my breakfast and hands it to me. "Thanks, Mom." I drop into the chair beside Mags and begin scarfing down my breakfast. Mom sets a cup of coffee down beside me, too. "Is this leaded?"

She rolls her eyes. "As if I'd insult you by giving you decaf."

Maggie leans over in her chair to poke me with the fork that Dad has just given back to her. I mock-frown in her direction. "What are you poking me for, squirt?"

"Teddy, Mommy says that you're gonna come get me from school today."

"Oh, she did, did she?" I glance up at Mom for confirmation. She gives me an apologetic shrug.

"I have a conference call with some interior designer friends back in the city, and I knew that you had a free period last thing."

I sigh theatrically, and then turn back to my baby sister. Her gray eyes are stretched wide as she regards me. "Looks like I am."

"Yay. I like it when you drive me places. Will you get me a razz-be slush like last time?"

"Raspberry," I correct automatically, and then I frown. "Hey! Didn't we promise we wouldn't tell anyone about that, Mags?"

Her eyes widen even further. "Oops. Sorry."

Dad sighs. "Edward, you know she's not supposed to have that much sugar. She ends up bouncing off the walls. Sort of like you when you were a child, actually."

"I know, Dad, sorry. In my defense, though, she swore to keep it a secret."

"That's not a defense, honey," Mom points out, now stacking the dishwasher with the used up pans from the pancakes. "Asking a six-year-old to lie to her parents is pretty much an admission of having done something wrong."

I fix Maggie with a reproachful look. "I'm never getting you processed sugar again, you little tattle-tale."

She pouts adorably.

* * *

My school day passes the same way as the last twenty-odd schooldays have passed. As a complete non-event.

That is, until lunchtime.

I'm sitting under my usual tree, reading my dog-eared, tattered copy of _The Shining_ for, like, the hundredth time, and I've just got to the bit where all the topiary animals at the Overlook start coming to life, when a shadow falls across my book, obscuring the words for a moment.

I glance up, and nearly have a heart-attack, because I'm looking into the ridiculously handsome, tan face of Jasper Hale. He's watching me with something akin to apprehension in his deep blue eyes, and I'm not sure what that's about.

It's the first time he's properly sought me out. Other than a few words exchanged, we've spent no time together at all since Lauren Mallory's party. I still think about him constantly, though, and not just when I'm alone and horny in bed. It's just… never-ending. I can't get him out of my head. You could probably crack open my skull and pour bleach into my brain, and it _still_ wouldn't erase the image of him burned there.

I'm obsessed, and I'm very, very aware of it. The crazy thing is, sometimes I could swear that I can see him looking at me out of the corner of his eye, but every time I turn to check, his gaze is trained elsewhere. I think it's probably wishful thinking on my part.

Still, an out-of-this-world hot boy is actually standing over me right now, looking like he wants to have a conversation, so I muster up a convincingly confident grin and say, "Jasper. I'd been wondering when you were gonna come and talk to me." I close my book over and set it down in the grass, so that he knows he has my undivided attention.

"You were wonderin' when I was gonna come and talk to you?" Good God, that accent… it's almost worth moving to Texas just to hear Jasper Hale speak. He sits down in the grass beside me, looking all countrified in his scruffy red Converse and worn-out jeans and plaid – yeah, he's actually wearing plaid – shirt. If there's such a thing as hick-chic, Jasper rocks it.

"Well, yeah. After I spoke to you at that party, I figured that you'd come and talk to me on, like, the first day back. But when you didn't, I decided I'd probably freaked you out." I shrug at him, trying not to look as though I'm disappointed by our lack of communication. "I knew you'd get over it eventually, though."

He frowns at me, looking all confused. "You didn't freak me out."

I raise an eyebrow. Most guys would be pretty freaked out by some strange boy cornering them. "No?"

"Alright," he says, giving me a sheepish smile. "You might've freaked me out a little bit. Not a lot, though. I didn't come and talk to you after that because…" he trails off, playing with the hem of his shirt, like he's uncomfortable about something.

"Because…?" I'm too curious not to prompt him.

"Well, because I didn't really know what to say to you. You're… cooler than I am."

I look at him incredulously for a full minute, but he's still staring avidly at the edge of his shirt, so he doesn't see. I can't help the derisive snort that escapes me, and then he glances up. _Wow, his eyes are really blue from this distance_. "For real?"

"Yeah." He grins, seeming to have broken through his earlier awkwardness. Probably because I'm so taken aback. "I mean, you're all edgy and different and from, like, the most awesome city on the planet. It's kinda intimidatin'. I felt like a bit of a dumb jock."

I grin at him. I'm beyond flattered, and he's just too fucking cute for words. "I don't think you're a dumb jock. I mean, I know you're a jock, and all that, but I don't think you're dumb."

"It's not like you'd know, though," Jasper argues. "I mean, like you said, we ain't exactly spent all that much time hangin' out."

"Try _any_ time," I counter. "But I've listened to you talking in History class. You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. In fact… you hide it well, Jasper, but I have this theory that you're actually a total brain." And I fully believe that. I don't let the accent or the colloquially bad grammar fool me for one second – Jasper Hale is a really smart guy.

A really smart guy who's just turned bright pink. Aw, he's blushing! The pink tinge to his golden skin is absolutely, categorically the most adorable thing I've ever seen. And then he goes right ahead and puts himself down. "Not likely."

"It is likely!" I shift on the grass so that I'm facing him properly, making a conscious effort to keep my volume down. I tend to start shouting without realizing it when I'm passionate about something. "I bet if you actually tried, you'd ace your SATs. I bet you could go Ivy League."

A slow, shy grin spreads across his face at my words, and my heart kind of does a funny little fluttering thing in my chest. Huh. If Seth could see how much of a girl I've turned into over the local quarterback… he'd probably bust a gut laughing.

Jasper's gaze focuses in on something over my shoulder. I resist the urge to crane my neck around to look, but I capitalize on his distraction in order to drink him in with my eyes. His honey-blond hair looks like gold where the sunlight refracts off it, and it really sets off his tan. His chiseled jaw flexes each time he swallows, and there's a slight shadow of stubble creeping across it, like he forgot to shave this morning. It's hot.

Then, jerking me out of my blatantly lustful thoughts, he elbows me in the ribs. "Looks like you got yourself some admirers there, Cullen."

I turn to what he'd been looking at, to find two girls of about sixteen shooting shy glances back at us over their shoulders. I laugh, because there's no way they'd be looking at me when I'm sitting beside someone as unbelievably hot as Jasper. "I think they were probably staring at _you_." I elbow him back, and immediately notice how solid his muscles are. Yum.

"They totally weren't!" Jasper protests, looking horrified. "Courtney Stanley wouldn't look at me like that, anyhow. She's Jasper-hating-Jessica's sister."

Ha! What? "Jasper-hating-Jessica?"

Jasper grimaces at me. "It's a long story."

Well, he can't just leave it there. I'm an insatiably curious person by nature, so I just pick up my sunglasses that have been lying in the grass behind me, unused, and slip them onto my face, tilting my head back against the tree. "Then I guess it's lucky we've still got forty minutes of lunch left."

Jasper frowns, like he's trying to work out how best to phrase his answer. "Well… Jessica's my ex. I kinda dumped her at the spring fling. In front of everyone. She didn't take it real well, and she's hated me ever since." He pauses. "Huh. Apparently that story isn't as long as I thought."

I can't help but laugh. The boy is unintentionally funny. "So you call her Jasper-hating-Jessica? I like it. It's catchy." Then I ask the question that I really want an answer to, because it might put an end to the hazy question-mark that is Jasper's sexual orientation. Well, at least, how I perceived it at the party, anyway. "Why'd you break up with her?"

He considers for a long time, brow furrowed. "I just… wasn't into her. Like, I was when we first started goin' out, but after a while, I just kinda got…"

"Bored?" I surmise.

"Yeah."

"It happens sometimes." I half-shrug at him. Lord knows, I've been bored with a couple of my exes. Though, back when I thought I was straight, I was never bored with Claire. More terrified out of my wits that she'd actually try and touch me.

"What about you? You got a girl back in New York?" Jasper asks brightly.

Oh. My. God.

He's kidding, surely. I hook one finger over the edge of my shades and slide them down my nose to give him a withering look. He seems nonplussed.

"You're kidding, right?" I say.

I've honestly never seen a person look so confused in my life. "Um, no?"

Holy shit, he actually doesn't know that I'm gay. I don't know how that's possible. Okay, well, maybe I was more overt in New York, but even toned-down me is still… well… pretty obvious. I grin at him. "No, then. I haven't got a girlfriend in New York. Never did."

"Oh. Okay. Maybe you'll have a bit better luck here, then?"

I burst out laughing. It's been an effort trying to hold it in ever since the whole Jasper-hating-Jessica thing, but his innocent enthusiasm just tips me over the edge. Once I've calmed down, I shake my head at him ruefully. "You Southerners act like you've all just hatched."

He sweeps my enigmatic comment under the rug like a pro. "Alright. You know, my buddy Mike is havin' a party this weekend."

"Oh yeah?" Talk about an abrupt subject-change.

He studies me for a moment. "You wanna come with me?"

"Are you asking me out?" The question slips out before I can stop it, and I internally curse myself when I see his appalled expression. Well, at least that answers any lingering questions I have about his sexuality. Jasper is, sadly, straight, because he's looking at me like he has no idea how I'd ever draw that conclusion from what he said. I decide to throw him a bone, because he looks so damn uncomfortable. "Relax, Jasper, I'm just kidding. Sure, though, the party sounds like fun."

He nods, and his expression seems to melt into one of utmost relief. I'm pretty crushed – I was so, so hoping that my prayers would actually be answered, but no joy. Life sucks. I pick up my book again, and he seems to take this as a dismissal.

"Bye," he mumbles, and heads back towards the cafeteria with his hands in his pockets and his head slightly down. I watch him go wistfully.

_Don't turn your nose up, Cullen, _I remind myself. _Straight or not, he asked you to go to a party. He's trying to be your friend. _

And, I mean, really, who could refuse a guy like that?

* * *

"He spoke to me, Alice," I sigh, sitting up on my duvet and clutching my cell to my ear. I can hear Maggie downstairs, throwing a hissy fit because Mom won't let her wear her 'princess dress' for dinner. (Unsurprising, seeing as it's actually a flower girl dress for Carmen and Eleazar's wedding in April). Her shrill wails are grating on me, so I spring off the mattress and walk over to slam the door.

"Who spoke to you?" Alice asks in my ear, and I notice that her Manchester accent has softened slightly from her time in London. She sounds much more polite. Of course, I don't let that fool me into thinking that she actually _is_ any politer than she used to be. She might be at a fancy college, but she's still Alice.

I flop back down onto my bed. "Jasper Hale."

"Who's he, when he's at home?"

I laugh at the expression. "He's the local golden boy. He's the quarterback of the football team, and he might just be the most gorgeous guy in existence."

I can almost hear Alice rolling her eyes down the phone. "Teddy, you are such a cliché. You fancy the quarterback? Really?"

I shrug, even though she can't see it. "Alice, if you could see him, you'd understand. Believe me."

"What part of 'lesbian' don't you understand, Ted?"

I laugh. "You can still appreciate the view, surely. Like, I mean, I'm hardly going to get it up for your girlfriend, but even I can see that she's stunning."

"Vicky's a babe. She's also my ex girlfriend, now."

"Oh, no," I say, though I'm not surprised. Those two are off and on more times than a fucking light switch. "What happened?"

"The usual. Volcano Vicky erupted at a party, embarrassed the fuck out of me, and when I called her on it, she told me that we were done." She pauses, and I hear the unmistakable flick of her lighter, and then the sound of her taking a drag on her cigarette. It makes me crave a smoke. "Whatever, though, I'm over it."

"Yeah, until next time," I mutter.

"Tell me about this Jasper, then," she says, in a resigned sort of way. "What does he look like?"

"Blond. Tan. Dark blue eyes. Awesome body."

"Be more pedestrian, Teddy," she tuts, but she's chuckling. "You've always had a thing for blonds."

"You can't count your friend in that," I put in.

"What, Alec? Why not? He's blond, you kissed him."

"I was drunk!"

"He's my roommate now, by the way. Did I tell you that?"

"No." I pause, digesting this unpleasant information. Alec had been a drunken mistake at Alice's nineteenth birthday. Well, he'd been a drunken mistake for me. He seems to be under the impression that we could actually have something going on. Never. Gonna. Happen. "I'm not coming to visit you until you move."

"It's not that bad! I think he's seeing someone, so you can chill your beans, boy."

"Okay," I concede. "Then I might still come and see you."

"So, this Jasper guy… you like him?"

I blow out a breath. "I don't know how anyone could not like him, Ali. He's… he's just incredible. And it's not just the way he looks, either. He's honestly one of the nicest people I've ever met in my life."

"Nice, Teddy?" Alice laughs. "You don't do 'nice'. 'Nice' isn't even in your vocabulary. You're an unrepentant dickhead. Don't get me wrong, I love that about you, but I don't see you hitting it off with someone who is _nice_."

"I'd be willing to be a bit nicer, if he was interested," I say, with complete seriousness. "But I don't think he is. I'm pretty sure that he's straight, and he doesn't even know that I'm gay, so I don't know how he'll react when he finds out."

"If he's as nice as you say he is, I'm sure he'll just roll with it. Let me ask you a question – would you want to be his friend, even knowing that nothing will come of it?"

I think back to his declaration that I'm cooler than him. The faint blush on his cheeks when I told him he's smarter than he gives himself credit for. "Yes, Alice. I want to be his friend, regardless."

* * *

When I arrive at Mike Newton's party on Saturday, I have to anxiously check that my hair isn't too chaotic in the reflection in one of the car windows in the driveway. I smooth down my emerald green sweater nervously, and let myself into the house.

Jessica Stanley – or Jasper-hating-Jessica, because I actually prefer that nickname – waves to me enthusiastically as I pass her in search of her hated ex-boyfriend, and I give her a fleeting one in return. I stick my head around the kitchen door, but Jasper's not in there, so I'm just about to duck out when I notice someone out of the corner of my eye.

She's tall, slender, tan and blonde. If I was straight, I would already be making my way over to her and trying to flirt my way into her pants. I notice that she's talking to pretty, clumsy Bella Swan, so I figure she must be a junior, too.

None of that is what makes me stare, though.

No, I'm staring, because this girl is like… a female version of Jasper. She tosses her hair back and turns, catching my eye. A second later, she waves me over.

Intrigued, I obey her summons. Up close, her eyes are an insanely cool color. Almost purple, they're so blue. Kind of like Jasper's, actually, except a couple of shades lighter. Violet, rather than indigo.

"You're the new kid, right?" she drawls, giving me the once-over. "Edward Cullen?"

Bella and I both nod in confirmation, and I hold out my hand. "Yeah, that's me."

She eyes my extended hand for a moment, and then takes it. "Rosalie Hale. You're, like, real cute, Edward. Seriously. Don't tell my boyfriend I said that, though, cause he'll break that pretty face of yours."

_Hale? Is she related to Jasper? That would certainly explain the resemblance. _"Who's your boyfriend? Just so I know."

"Emmett McCarty," she declares, with a very Jasper-like smile, only hers has a slightly more dangerous edge to it that I can't help but like. "He's on the football team. So's my brother, so don't try anythin'." She winks. I laugh.

"Your brother?"

She confirms my suspicions a second later. "Jasper. The quarterback? C'mon, you musta heard of him! You're a senior, right?"

"Yeah," I say. "And I have heard of him. As a matter of fact, he's the one who invited me tonight. I was actually looking for him, just now."

"Oh," Rosalie smiles. "Well, he's in the other room." She points. "All the football team are talkin' about graduation or some shit. I don't like listenin' much, cuz it makes me kinda depressed to hear Em talkin' about when he's gonna leave."

"Oh, okay." I smile. "Thanks."

"Enjoy the party, Edward," Rosalie says. Then she turns back to Bella, who flashes me a smile before they launch back into their previous conversation. I catch the gist – they're talking about new cheer uniforms.

Turning my back on them, I make my way through to the room that Rosalie had indicated, and sure enough, my heartbeat starts to accelerate as I see Jasper, lounging back in a chair in a fitted white t-shirt and badly ripped jeans, clutching a beer in one hand and nodding along to whatever Mike Newton is saying.

I approach, unnoticed, just as dark-haired, thickset Emmett McCarty – Jasper's sister's boyfriend, as I've recently learned – says "So, Jazz, what's your deal for when we're finally done with this high school bullshit?"

Jasper answers without thinking, in that lazy drawl that makes my cock twitch in my jeans. "I think I'm gonna go to New York to college. Maybe major in European History or somethin'. That way I might even get a year abroad. That'd be cool."

They all look at him like he's just sprouted another head and started to recite French poetry or something. I, on the other hand, am totally impressed.

Emmett leans forward in his chair, surveying Jasper like he's sickening for something. "You mean, you don't wanna stay in Texas? You wanna go off to some pretentious college and memorize a bunch of facts and dates about stuff that happened on another continent for _four years_? You wanna go to some random place in Europe where you don't even speak the fuckin' _language_?"

_Yeah, because no one in their right mind would ever do that_, I think sarcastically. Jasper's looking sort of like he wishes he'd never opened his mouth, so I decide to put in my two cents.

"I think that's a fucking awesome idea." Jasper turns at the sound of my voice, and the look of relief that saturates his dark blue eyes makes my heart stutter. He's glad I joined in. I pull out a chair and sit in it backwards, uninvited. I then focus my attention on Jasper, which, let's face it, is where my attention wants to be, anyway. "Where would you go? In Europe, I mean. If you could choose?"

His grateful look intensifies. "I dunno. Paris, maybe? Or Rome? I've always wanted to go to Italy."

Everyone else is still silent and stunned. It's almost funny.

"Italy's great," I agree, but then I offer him another option. "But I think you'd like Vienna. _Tons_ of history, there."

"You travel a lot, huh?" He looks pretty awestruck. I could get used to that look.

I grin. "I get around."

He gives a low, throaty chuckle, and I'm suddenly sporting a semi. "So, what countries have you visited?"

"Um… England, – my dad's English, so I have family there – France, Belgium, Austria, Italy, Greece, Hungary, Russia, India, Morocco, South Africa, Singapore, Thailand, Australia, Argentina, Venezuela, Haiti and… wait, I think that's it." I tick them off on my fingers as I go, enjoying the way his jaw seems to drop further and further with each place I name. Damn… Jasper with his mouth hanging open… "Oh, hang on, and Texas."

He seems to replay my words, and then snorts when he realizes what I've said last. "Um, Cullen… Texas is in the US. It's not another country."

I raise my eyebrows at him meaningfully. "Hale, it's a whole other _world_ down here."

He looks like he's dying to laugh. Then, when he takes in the shell-shocked faces of the rest of his narrow-minded team, he can't stop himself. He breaks out into honestly the most attractive laughter I've ever heard in my life. I decide that my new _raison d'être_ is to make Jasper Hale laugh like that every chance I get.

When he can finally breathe again, he says "I can't believe how much of the world you've seen."

He sounds so wistful that I can't help but give him a sympathetic smile. There's a fierce longing burning in his deep blue gaze, and it's kind of melting my heart a little bit. I don't think I've ever felt so immediately enamored with a person before. Even the slightest shift in his facial expressions tugs at my heartstrings.

Which is weird, because, according to my friends, I have a block of ice where my heart should be.

Jasper opens his mouth, like he's about to say something, but another gruff voice cuts across him.

"Yeah, well, I dunno that you'd have such a good time of it, Jasper. Cullen has an advantage when he's doing all that sissy European air-kiss shit, seeing as he's a total fag anyhow."

Everyone gasps in unison.

I fight the desire to laugh.

Because finally, finally, someone has guessed. And I'm not even sure if Tyler Crowley is bright enough to have done it intentionally.

I look down at my recently repainted nails, examining the edges for chips.

Coolly, I raise one eyebrow.

Then, when I'm sure the impact of Tyler's words has settled in nicely, I raise my eyes and survey the anxious group as a whole.

Showtime.

"Well, I wouldn't say it gives me an advantage, Crowley, but it's certainly not as much of an issue over there as it clearly is to _you_." I smirk at him, selling my bravado nicely. "You know, some leading psychologists actually believe that homophobia is a coping mechanism for dealing with latent homosexual desire. What d'you reckon… are they onto something?"

Tyler slowly begins to turn purple.

Everyone else is slowly going gray.

And, finally, I look at Jasper, measuring his reaction. He's staring at me, bug-eyed, with his mouth hanging partway open. I try to communicate something with my eyes, because I don't really want to break the stunned silence.

_You look pretty surprised. You had no idea, huh?_

Jasper holds my gaze unflinchingly, and I can tell he understood. He's also giving me a look right back. I interpret it as; _You're actually gay? For real?_

I roll my eyes at him. _Obviously. _

His eyes get wider, and the dark-blue depths look incredulous. It's like he's saying; _I can't believe you just outed yourself to half of our senior class. _

I challenge him with my eyes, _and you think that was a bad idea?_

Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head. His eyes say, _I'm impressed. _

I knit my eyebrows together, silently asking; _Are you okay with me, now?_

Jasper must understand, because he nods, and then breaks out into a heart-stopping smile, all white teeth and dimples. I grin in return. The whole 'conversation' is over in less than a minute, and nobody else seems to have noticed, but I'm reeling. I don't think I've ever been understood by a person through nothing more than my eyes. It's ridiculously cool.

Then Tyler stands up, balling his hands into fists, and stalks over to me, leaning down into my personal space with a face like thunder. "Are you calling me a fuckin' queer?"

Wow, did it really take him that long to come to that conclusion? He's dumber than I thought.

Dumb or not, he's probably going to kick my ass, now. Gulp. I mean, I'm not the kind of guy who looks easy to take down, but Tyler Crowley is a mountain. And, plus, I've literally never been in a fight in my life. Not my thing. I prefer to settle arguments with witty and irrefutable banter, rather than my fists.

Yeah… he could totally beat the shit out of me, without even trying.

_Yikes_.

Jasper is watching me, and he seems to sense my 'oh shit' vibes, because he jumps to his feet and lays a restraining hand on Tyler's shoulder, fingers gripping with – I'm sure – the kind of strength that is not to be contradicted.

"Ty," he says firmly, his tone a low warning. "Leave it alone."

"He called me a fuckin' fag!" Tyler hisses, but he's obeying Jasper's directive so far. He's not throwing any punches. From the way he keeps warily eyeing the white-knuckle grip Jasper has on his shoulder, I think that he's worried about not being able to take Jasper down.

Which, you know, is hot as fuck.

"You were bein' an ass to him, first," Jasper says reasonably. Crowley seems to sag in defeat, and Jasper continues, "Let's all just forget about it, and we can just be civil and enjoy the damn party, 'kay?"

Tyler looks like he wants to argue, but thinks better of it when one of the other guys steps in. I'm surprised to see that it's Emmett McCarty. He's even bigger than Crowley, so there is absolutely no way he'd take on the pair of them. Emmett grabs the asshole's elbow.

"C'mon, man, let's just go grab a beer and you can cool your jets." He drags him off towards Mike's kitchen, and I notice that both Jasper and I seem to let out a breath when they vanish.

Our eyes meet, and it's like we're talking without actually saying words again.

_Thank you, _I don't say.

_Got your back, _he doesn't say back.

And, looking into his eyes, I know he means it. He actually doesn't care that I'm gay. He wants to be my friend. He doesn't mind jumping in to protect me.

Fucking _swoon_.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**PJ**

**x**


	3. November

**A/N - Hello, everyone! Just wanted to check in and say hello and thank you to my reviewers, favoriters and followers. I'm really so glad you like the story! Also, I keep re-reading my reviews because you're making me smile so much with your wonderful comments. I'm so glad you like hearing Edward's side of things! (You're right, by the way, he's really not as smooth as Jasper thinks he is). **

**Hope you enjoy this one!**

* * *

_**Three**_

With my feet propped up on my desk and a half-drunk 'razz-be' slush in one hand, I boot up my computer and open my emails. I'm unsurprised to see that Seth has sent me an essay – the boy could take home gold in the doesn't-know-how-to-shut-the-fuck-up Olympics.

_Eddie, _it reads;

_So, as you're probably aware, New York fucking sucks without you! Well, no, okay, that's a total lie, the city is still the place to be. Did you hear that Jake's band just got signed? He's fucking stoked, but all it means is that him and the guys will not stop practicing, and they're actually gonna drive me insane. If I have to go to bed with earplugs in for one more night, I think I'm gonna lose it and beat their asses down. (You know, if I can hire some big-ass guys to do it for me, because Lord knows, I can't throw a fucking punch). _

_ Leah just got accepted to the Tisch writing program, and I swear that she actually squeed like a real girl when she got the letter. Mom broke down in tears. It was the same day that I had to tell them I got caught smoking up on the roof at school and I've been suspended for three days – fucking tragic. I've genuinely never seen my mom's face turn so many colors. _

_ Colin says hi, he's sitting in my room reading over my shoulder as I write, and he's also asked me to ask you to send pictures of this 'fuckhot BFF' of yours – I'm taking that BFF title personally, you know, because I am the guy who shoved you out of the closet, so I think that makes me entitled to claim that honor for life – but anyway, he wants to see if he's really all that. I gotta admit, I'm a little curious, too. I've never heard you gush about a guy like that – you sound like even more of a twink than Colin, and that's saying something. (He just hit me on the arm for that one). So, get with the pics, man! _

_ Ooh, also, you should know that James is totally seeing some guy who gave him the herp – not really, but we're spreading that around (the rumor, not the herp, lol) because even though you dumped his sorry ass, it's not like he should be allowed to 'win' the breakup by dating someone first. Which, you know, he totally wouldn't if you were still here in NY and you could have your pick of guys rather than be stuck in Deliverance country. _

_ Quick question – does anyone you know actually play a banjo? Or a guitar? Can you get them to have a showdown? Because that would just be too hilarious! You could film it and put it on Youtube, everyone at Manchester Prep would totally die. _

_ Speaking of school, Ms. Abercrombie practically broke down in tears last week during bio lab and announced to everyone that you were the only one who used to laugh at her jokes and the class isn't even the same without you. It was waaaay dramatic, and everyone was pissing themselves laughing, but I guess it must be nice to know you're missed! _

_ And we do miss you, ya bitchy, cocky son of a bitch. _

_ Write me back quickly, I'm soooo bored. _

_ Love ya, _

_ Seth. _

_ (And Colin). _

I laugh as I scan through the email, and I quickly compose one back and hit 'send'. I'm just about to close up the computer, when I hear the ping of incoming mail in my Facebook chat box.

I open the message, assuming it's just Seth being really impatient, as usual.

_Jasper Hale: Hey, man, what'cha doin? I'm so fuckin bored. _

I grin. Jasper doesn't even use 'g's at the ends of words when he types. I really hope that's not the case when he writes his college admissions essays. I can totally see him writing an essay titled 'Why I wanna go to school in New York and shit'. Okay, maybe not, but the south is deeply ingrained in that boy. I kind of love it.

I answer him.

_Edward Cullen: Oh, you know, sitting around in a face mask and giving myself a pedicure. Typical gay things. _

There's a pause of about a minute.

_Jasper Hale: For real?_

I laugh.

_Edward Cullen: Nah, man, I'm totally fucking with you. All I've done since school is go and get a slush at the gas station and then write an email to my friend Seth. Mom's been bitching me out about cleaning my room, so I'm sitting in here pretending to do it until she comes up and yells at me again. _

_ Jasper Hale: You're kinda a slob, Cullen, ya know that? _

A few seconds go by.

_ Jasper Hale: Man, I'd kill for a slush right now, I don't even give a shit that it's winter. _

_ Edward Cullen: It's not winter. Not proper winter, anyway. This is Texas, Jazz. You want winter? Wait til you see New York. You'll freeze your fucking balls off._

_ Jasper Hale: I can't wait. Hang on… is it weird that I just said that? I'd kinda like to keep my balls, but I wanna play in the snow!_

I burst out laughing again. Damn Jasper and his wide-eyed, infectious enthusiasm for everything! He's so ridiculously adorable that it makes me want to die a little inside every time I see that dimpled grin and know that he's never going to want me the way I want him.

Then, he just goes ahead and makes it worse.

_Jasper Hale: Hey, Edward, wanna come pick me up and we can go get a slush? You just gave me a real bad cravin for one. _

Yeah, but it's probably not anywhere near the magnitude of the craving I have for him. I know that it's not healthy to be so ridiculously crushing on my best friend in this town, but I can't help it. I defy anyone to spend more than an afternoon with Jasper Hale and not fall in love with him.

Wait, fall in love?

Steady, Edward. Let's not be too dramatic now…

Like an addict jonesing for his next fix, I quickly type a response.

_Edward Cullen: I'll be there in ten. _

That's quickly followed by;

_Jasper Hale: Sweet _

I shut off my computer monitor, grinning like an idiot. I'm so totally screwed, and I know it. Grabbing my car keys, I all but race down the stairs and out of the door, calling a hasty "Bye, Mom" over my shoulder as I go.

* * *

"This is the best thing I've ever tasted," Jasper sighs, leaning back against the hood of my car with one leg crossed over the other and his eyes closed as he takes a long pull on the straw of his blueberry slush. "Thanks for drivin' me out here. You're the fuckin' man, Edward."

_This is fucking torture_. As if I didn't have it bad enough for Jasper already, the phallic symbolism of him sucking on a straw is making all the blood rush to a place that straight guys really don't want their gay friend's blood to be rushing when they're looking at them.

Instead of groaning in hopeless longing like I want to, I muster up a smile. "Glad I could help."

I can't look at him drinking that thing anymore. I'll end up going crazy and breaking down in horny, frustrated tears. Or, I'll go one worse, and just jump his fucking bones.

And that would be really awkward.

Not to mention friendship-destroying.

But hell… looking at his mouth right now, wishing it was wrapped around my dick instead of that fucking straw… I'm actually jealous of an inanimate object. How pathetic is that?

_Get a fucking grip, Edward_.

I turn to the side, so that I don't have to look at him anymore, but the slurping sounds are almost as bad. I'm so fucking sick of trying to hide the constant boner I have going on whenever Jasper's around. It's starting to make me lightheaded when we hang out for prolonged periods of time.

Still… it's worth it, just to be around him.

My God, could I sound like more of a needy, co-dependent little bitch or what?

This isn't me. I'm Edward fucking Cullen. I use 'em and lose 'em. I don't get butterflies in my stomach when a guy smiles at me. I don't feel like I'm on fire whenever that same guy accidentally touches me.

Or, well, I didn't, before I met Jasper fucking Hale.

I'm like a schoolgirl with a crush. Only much, much worse.

I twist my head to the side to study his face in profile, and then his eyes slide sideways and he's looking at me, too.

And those fucking eyes… just _wow_. They're the color of a sky on the edge of dawn. Every time I look into them, I feel like I'm free-falling through space.

Okay, well that sounded so motherfucking girly that I kind of want to slap myself. I won't though, because that'd be a pretty strange and unexplainable thing to do in front of Jasper.

I settle for internally kicking myself into touch.

"Ya know, when I was a kid, me and Rosie used to go get slushes with our Daddy on Sundays after church," he says. I fucking love the way he calls his dad 'Daddy'. It's should sound babyish, but it doesn't. "Katie and Tanya always went to youth group, but Daddy would take us down here and we'd just spend the mornin' over by the park, sippin' slushes and hangin' out."

"That sounds really cute," I admit. "I like family traditions and stuff like that."

"Yeah, 'cept Mama would always be real pissed when we got home. We was always bouncin' off the walls from all the sugar."

I can so see hyper little Jasper as a child, honey-blond curls flip-flopping all over the place as he pogoed around, packed full of E numbers. The mental image is fucking adorable.

"Did your mom ever yell at your dad for it?" I ask.

Jasper chuckles that chuckle of his that sends a throb through both my heart and my cock. "Yeah, all the fuckin' time. Then Kate and Tanya tried to get in on it, wantin' to skip youth group and shit, but me and Rose told 'em no. It was like, our little tradition, sorta thing."

"Well, now I kind of feel like I'm intruding on a family tradition," I say, smiling slightly so that he knows I'm not being serious.

"Nah, man. I asked you to. Seein' as slushes are my tradition and all, I get to include whoever I want."

"I'm honored," I say dryly.

"You should be. Takes someone real special to be given an invitation to the secret clubhouse, Ed."

He grins at me, blue eyes alight with a vivid sparkle that makes my chest constrict. Seeing him like this, all animated and talkative and open, it makes me melt inside.

Who the hell am I kidding? This isn't a crush.

I'm falling for him. For real.

* * *

The next day, at school, I can't help but replay the evening over and over in my head. Jasper and I can just tease and goof off with each other without any real effort, but it's always kind of painful for me. The banter comes naturally, the connection is unforced, and that's why it hurts so damn much.

I've never been a sappy kind of guy, but if I believed in soul mates and all that, I would categorically say that I'm never going to find one that is such a perfect fit for me as Jasper is, for a shitload of reasons.

Because he gets me, without me having to explain myself.

Because we can talk to each other without speaking.

Because he laughs at my jokes, and I can tell he isn't faking it.

Because when he looks at me, the world stops spinning on its axis.

Because I rage like a fucking storm and he shines like the fucking sun, and we balance each other out.

Because he makes me want to be a better guy.

I'm thinking all of this just as his dumpster-on-wheels (I really can't bring myself to call that thing a car) comes to a stop in the parking space next to mine. I lean against my shiny silver painted beauty, watching him unsuccessfully try and shoulder open his car door.

It opens on the second attempt. Rosalie swings herself out of the passenger side, stooping down to pick up her bag from the floorboard, just as I hear Jasper exclaim, "I've _got_ a car!"

"If you want to call that rust bucket a car, then I suppose you do. In the loosest possible definition of the term." I pipe up, because I know he knows I'm here.

Jasper gives me a mock-glare and then slams the door of his rust-bucket so hard that the whole thing rocks. He doesn't know his own strength sometimes. "Leave Bessie alone, Cullen. Or at least don't call her names right in front of her."

"She's so old, she's probably deaf anyway," I shrug, trying and failing not to think that it's adorable that he's named his car. Maybe I should name mine…

I throw an arm out to hook it around Rosalie's shoulders as she passes me. The two of us have become pretty close in the last month or so – it's nice to meet a person who is almost as blunt as I am. We're two peas in a scathing pod. Rose giggles as I hug her close. "Don't worry, princess, I'll come and pick you up from now on. We've got your street cred on the line, here."

"See, Jasper?" Rose says, reaching past me to poke him in the ribs with her index finger. "Edward doesn't mind. He wants to drive us from now on."

"Only to save you the embarrassment of showing up in that thing," I qualify with a smirk, and Jasper playfully socks me in the shoulder. Tingles break out on my arm from the contact, and it's not because he hit me hard or anything, it's just a visceral reaction to his touch.

"Shut up, man," he grumbles.

I poke my tongue out at him, which causes him to laugh and roll his gorgeous eyes.

Then, I try to sound casual, even though I've been working up the nerve to ask my next question all week. "By the way, I was meaning to ask you both if you wanted to come over to mine this evening. My dad wants to celebrate Guy Fawkes'."

"He wants to celebrate what now?" Jasper and Rosalie exchange a bewildered look.

I smile at them both. "It's a British thing. Bonfire night. We do it every year. We light up a bonfire in the backyard and then set off a bunch of fireworks. It sounds lame, but it's actually pretty fun."

"I don't think it sounds lame," Rosalie says instantly, and her eyes are all lit up like a kid in a candy store. "I love fireworks!"

Jasper gives a more lukewarm reaction, but still cheerful enough. "Sure, I'm in."

"Good. My mom keeps begging me to introduce her to my friends, anyway. Bring Bella, and Emmett, if you want." _I really wish it would just be me and Jasper, but I think the urge to kiss him would be too overwhelming if it was just me, him and a firework display. And… well, my whole family. Of course I wouldn't humiliate us both in front of my parents! Damn. I should've just asked him by himself. _

The hallway is packed as we enter, and Rose immediately ducks out from under my arm when she spots Bella a little ways ahead. No doubt she's going to fill her in on the firework party. Jasper turns to me as soon as she's gone.

"What's Guy Fawkes?"

I chuckle. "It's not a 'what', Jazz, it's a 'who'. He was this guy who, back in 1605, was part of an assassination attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament using gunpowder and kill King James I so that they could get a catholic monarch on the throne again. The gunpowder plotters were caught right before they could actually go through with it – in the early hours of the morning on November 5th, which is why…" I realize I'm rambling, so I trail off. A quick glance at his earnestly interested expression, though, and I break out into a smile. He's not feigning his intrigue. "You really eat this stuff up, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" His brow furrows. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No. Not at all. I guess you weren't kidding about loving European history, huh?"

He's blushing as he shakes his head. "You think I'm a total freak, don't 'cha?"

I raise an eyebrow. I don't get why he feels so insecure. I mean, has he seen himself? Walked past a shiny surface? Listened to anything that comes out of that sinfully fuckable mouth of his? He's the package deal. "You're asking _me_, the guy who likes boys and draws on himself in marker pen, if I think _you_ are a freak?" I snicker a little. "I'm pretty sure I must've taken a wrong turn on the drive to school without noticing, cuz I think I'm in Bizarro-world."

Jasper laughs, and shoots me a look that I can only interpret as grateful. I don't know what he has to be grateful about, because my flippant comment isn't anything close to what I really want to say to him.

I want to tell him just how amazing he actually is.

"Hey," We reach Jasper's locker, and I lean up against the one next to it as he sticks his head in and sorts out his books. I won't lie – I use the opportunity to blatantly check out his ass. Finest thing in the continental US, by the way. "Would you think I was totally lame if I said that I'm kinda lookin' forward to meetin' your folks?"

He straightens up to look at me, and I can't help the smile that creeps across my face. He actually wants to meet my parents. Cue dreamy sigh. "No. I don't think that's lame. Why so keen, though? Most people don't really give a shit about their friends' parents."

Unless they want their friends to be more than that…

_No, damn it, Edward, don't go there_! _Not happening_!

"Well…" Jasper tilts his head to one side, the way he always does when he's considering the best response. "I'm kinda intrigued by them. I mean, they've got these wicked cool jobs, and your dad is English, ain't he, so I bet he's gonna be real interestin' to talk to. I like learnin' about new places and stuff."

"I've noticed," I say. "But yeah, I mean, they're cool. You'll like them. It's just… they're really… well, kind of embarrassing, sometimes. Which is why you haven't met them yet."

"Everyone's folks are embarrassin', Ed," Jasper assures me. "I mean, you've met my mama, right?"

"Your mom isn't embarrassing. She's awesome." In fact, his whole family is awesome. I haven't met his two oldest sisters yet, because they're away at college, but I love Rosie, and Lillian is just about as maternal as a woman can get, and Gramma (she insisted I call her that, too)… well, she's something else altogether. I want to have her spunk when I'm an old queen.

"Of course _you _think that." Jasper slams his locker, and we head off towards mine. "She's not your mama, so you find her funny. Me, on the other hand? Sometimes she says stuff around people that just makes me wanna crawl in a hole and die." He shudders slightly. "How come your folks make you cringe, anyhow?"

"It's more my mom than my dad," I reason. "She makes such a fuss, sometimes. And she's just about bursting with gay pride. When I came out to her, I swear, she practically threw me my own parade. She signed up to join some gay rights group the next day. She totally gushes over me."

I can't help the blush that creeps across my cheeks. I love my mom more than anything, but I swear she gets pleasure out of making me squirm while she pinches my cheek and tells me how I'm going to make some nice boy the luckiest man in the world.

Oh, how I wish that it could be Jasper…

"I think that's kinda nice."

I can't resist an eye roll. Of course Jasper thinks my mom fawning over me is nice. He's like a ray of undiluted, peppy sunshine himself. "_You_ would, wouldn't you?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" We stop at my locker, now, and Jasper takes his turn of leaning up by the side while I sort my books out.

"You spend your days giving out the verbal equivalent of a free hug to everyone you talk to," I tell him, as I rummage through the debris littering my top shelf in order to find my biology textbook. My locker could use a Hazmat team to come and clean it out.

Huh. Maybe Jasper's right. Maybe I am a bit of a slob.

"I don't do that," he protests.

I manage to pull the book out. "You do, too."

"Well… so, what? I'm nice." He crosses his arms defensively, giving me a great view of his impressive biceps as I slam my locker home and lean against it.

"You're _too_ damn nice. It's superhuman. Nobody likes _everyone_." I study him, thinking that he might just be the exception to that rule. "Except… you really do, don't you? You don't actually have a problem with anyone." I shake my head at him ruefully.

"I dunno. _You're_ kinda pissin' me off right now…" He mutters under his breath, which makes me laugh. I kind of love the way that I can bring out a bit of attitude in him. He's normally so placid.

"Yeah, but I've got a talent for it." And I'm proud of it. Something else pops into my head as I think of this. "Can you believe that Bella called me 'bitchy' the other day?"

Jasper sniggers. "She's not wrong."

The warning bell blares out along the hallway, and we fall into step as we make our way towards our mutual first period Biology class.

"Being 'bitchy' is a trait exclusive to girls, Jazz. Name one instance where I've been bitchy. I bet you can't." I'm fairly smug, which is why I'm kind of surprised when he answers without hesitation.

"Yesterday, when Newton walked into the diner and you turned to me and said 'Look at the state of him. Did he get dressed in the dark or something?'"

"Did I say that?" I smirk, because Newton really does look like he gets dressed in the dark. "Huh. I guess I am kind of a bitch."

"Probably why you get on so well with Rosalie," Jasper says with a shrug. I reach out and smack him across the back of the head. His curls are really soft, but the blow lands on his skull with a satisfying whack. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Being mean about your sister."

Jasper raises one eyebrow, a trait I'm certain he's picked up from me, because he didn't really do derision until I came along. "Thought you said I was too nice?"

"You _are_ too nice." But I like that he's nice. He's more than just 'nice', he's _charming_. A quintessential southern gentleman. "But let's keep it that way. I'm apparently a bitch, so hanging out with you, Mr. Congeniality, can only improve my image." I clutch at my heart and deliver my next line in an impression of Jasper-hating-Jessica. "I mean you're, like, the most popular guy in school!"

Jasper bursts out laughing – the proper belly-laugh that warms me from the inside out. "You're such an ass."

I wink at him. "Comedy value, man. That's why you keep me around."

Without another word, I duck inside, and I can still feel the warmth of his smile like a fireside glow at my back.

* * *

"When's Jasper gettin' here?" Emmett asks, accepting the can of ginger beer I'm holding out for him and pulling Rosalie onto his lap. She smiles at him with gloating affection, and it's an expression that she seems to reserve entirely for the burly linebacker, because her bitch-stare is the one that most other people get a good look at.

"I bet that shit-heap of a car of his broke down again," Rosalie says, and her characteristically evil smile is back in full-force. Bella rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair.

"Quit hatin' on Bessie, guys. You know Jasper worked the whole summer of junior year to save up for that car."

He did? I feel kind of guilty about teasing him now. Of course Bella would be the one to point that out. The girl was so incredibly sweet that hanging out with her for too long would probably end up giving me cavities. It's impossible, however, not to gravitate towards someone with such a gentle and honest nature, so I guess I'll just schedule in regular dental checkups and put up with the saccharine smiles.

I grin at her and take a sip of my coke. "Maybe we can get him to sell it for something better?"

"Like what?" Bella frowns. "Only thing that he'd be able to buy with the money from that sale is an even shittier car. Or a motorcycle, I guess."

Jasper with a motorcycle? I need to think of something gross before I pop wood right here in front of everyone.

Just then, the hairs on the back of my neck all stand on end, practically in unison, and I know that there's only one thing in the world that can elicit that kind of reaction from me.

Sure enough, a second later, I hear his sexy southern drawl right by my left ear.

"Hey, Teddy."

I stiffen and pivot in my seat. The only way he'd know that name is if…

I spot Maggie lurking by my chair and shoot her a glare. She shrugs and sticks her tongue out at me. I've really got to watch that she doesn't pick up any more of my bad habits.

"You're gonna call me that until the end of time now, aren't you?" I groan at Jasper.

He smiles beatifically. "You bet your ass I am."

"Great. Just fantastic." I slump back in my chair, looking up into Jasper's absurdly handsome face upside-down. Then I close my eyes, because I can't see that teasing sparkle in his blue irises without wanting to grab his chin and drag his face down to mine for a Spiderman-style kiss.

Fuck, that would be hot.

"Oh, c'mon Teddy, don't sulk," His finger prods me in the forehead, and I erupt in goosebumps.

I open my eyes in time to see Maggie scuttle around and climb into Bella's lap. She's such an attention whore, my little sister.

"Ah, I see our last guest has arrived."

Jasper turns around as my dad strolls onto the deck and offers him his hand to shake. I get that my dad strikes people as quite an impressive figure, but it's really sweet to see the awestruck look that Jasper gets as he takes my dad's proffered hand and shakes it.

"I'm Carlisle, Edward's dad. And you, I take it, are Jasper?"

Oh, God. I forgot to tell them all to be cool and act as though I don't yammer on about him twenty-four seven. I really want to clap my hand to my face, but that would make it really obvious. I just pray he doesn't say anything more incriminating than that.

"Yes, sir."

Dad chuckles, and I can tell he's pretty impressed by Jasper, too. "Good grief, even the teenagers around here are polite. Are you thirsty?"

"Yeah, I could use a drink, thanks. What've you got?"

"Coke," I answer him. "Or ginger beer."

But I know he doesn't like ginger beer, so it doesn't surprise me when he wrinkles his nose and says, "Um, coke, please."

Dad cranes his neck towards the open kitchen window and hollers, "Esme! When you're coming out, can you grab Jasper a coke?"

Mom shouts something that sounds like 'sure, honey' and then steps out onto the deck a second later.

I measure Jasper's reaction to my mom, wondering if it'll be the same as the rest of my straight friends. Everyone constantly tells me that she's a total MILF. It's beyond disturbing. Thankfully, Jasper isn't drooling. He just looks kind of… fascinated by her. By both my parents, actually.

"Jasper, I'm Esme. Welcome to our home." There Mom goes, being a good hostess. Honestly, my parents are so nice that I consider it an achievement to have turned into such a sarcastic bastard. I must've figured it out on my own. Maybe it was my version of teenage rebellion or something.

"Thank you for invitin' me, ma'am. This place is unreal." Oh, Jasper, ever the charmer.

Mom beams, taken with him already. "I'm glad you like it."

"Like it? It's like somethin' out of a magazine! It's incredible." Jasper admires the landscaped yard for a minute. "Edward says you're an interior designer… did you do the designs for this place yourself?"

Oh, God, and now my mom is swooning over him just as bad as I am. "Oh, well, yes, actually. I tried my hand at the landscaping design as well, but I'm not sure that I'm quite up to the challenge."

"I have to disagree there, ma'am. I think you've done a wonderful job."

Mom actually pats him on the cheek. "Oh, you are a charmer," she trills out a laugh. "You can come back any day." Her gaze flickers over to me, meaningfully, and I know I'm in for an awkward conversation. "And you can come and help me bring out the food, Ted."

I roll my eyes and make to follow my mom as she walks back towards the kitchen. When I reach Jasper, though, I can't help but give him a playful shove. Partly to tease, partly for an excuse to touch him.

"Hey!" Jasper protests good-naturedly.

"Kiss-ass," I laugh. "I saw you trying to butter my mom up."

"Yeah, Jasper, nobody likes a suck-up," Emmett chortles. "Though, to be fair, I kinda wanna get on Esme's good side as well."

"She has that effect on people," I hear Dad saying as I disappear through the kitchen door. Mom is laying in wait, and the second I shut the door, she pounces on me.

"Jasper is such a sweetheart!"

"Yeah, Mom, I figured you'd like him," I sigh.

"I mean it, Edward, he's one of the sweetest and most polite young men I've ever seen you hanging out with. He's just lovely." Now, she's the one who sighs.

I roll my eyes. "Don't go getting a crush on a teenage boy or anything, Mom."

"Oh, Edward, hush." She pauses, considering me carefully, and I know what's coming. "Is there anything going on between you and Jasper?"

"No, Mom." I sound pretty pissed off about that, even to my own ears. "There's nothing."

"Why not? He's very handsome…"

Don't I fucking know it. Jasper Hale defies description. 'Handsome' would never do him justice. There isn't a superlative strong enough for him.

He's also incredibly, heartbreakingly unavailable

"Yeah, Mom, but he's straight, so there's no point in you picking out china patterns for us or anything."

"Oh. Well, that's a pity. You two would've certainly looked good together."

I wish she wouldn't say things like that. It fucking hurts to hear the words. I groan. "Mother, can you stop? Please?"

"Can't a mom express disappointment? I mean, honey, don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that you have such good friends so quickly after moving here, but I hoped you'd get lucky and find a nice boy to date, too. And, considering that you haven't shut up about him for a month, I just figured that maybe Jasper was…" She catches sight of the twisted, pained expression on my face, and she finally guesses what I'm actually thinking. "Oh, honey. Teddy, I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

Without another word from me, she reaches out and pulls me into a freesia and white musk-smelling mom hug. I cling on for dear life, burying my head in her shoulder and willing myself not to succumb to the hopeless tears that are burning in the back of my eyes.

"It really sucks," I mumble, but I attempt to rally. "Whatever. I'll get over it."

"Yes, you will. But honey, before you do… are you _sure_ he isn't?"

Why? Has she noticed something I haven't?

_Dream on, Edward, and grow the fuck up. Real life is not like your little fantasy world_.

I sigh. "Pretty sure, Mom, yeah."

She smiles up at me as she releases me, and lets me go back off in search of my friends. At the door, I take a breath, collecting myself from my near-meltdown, and then stride on out.

When I round the corner, I nearly smack straight into Jasper.

"Hey, man, your dad wants another beer, and I ain't too sure where to…?"

I put on my game face and tut at him. "You sucking up again, Jazz?" When I look into his eyes, it's like my blood runs cold. They're too wide, like he's shocked about something. "Why are your eyes all weird?"

"What?" He frowns unconvincingly. Jasper has more talent in his little finger than most people have in their whole damn bodies, but he is a truly shitty actor. "No, they ain't…"

"Yeah, they are, actually. You look like you've just seen a…"

I trail off.

Because I know why his eyes are stretched so wide.

He fucking heard me and my mom when we were speaking about him.

"Oh, holy shit. You were eavesdropping." The words aren't a question. I can tell by the guilty look on his face. My shoulders sag in defeat.

Goodbye, only friend who ever really gets me.

Sayanora, desperate, pining adoration.

He's going to walk away from me forever.

I want to die.

Jasper looks at me meaningfully, then, and I sense that he wants to have one of our freaky-but-cool silent 'conversations'.

_I had to listen_, his eyes are saying. _You said my name. _

I look up exaggeratedly. _Yeah, I understand. It's fine. _

_It _is_ fine, _his eyes say, this time. _I'm okay with it. And we're still friends. _

I frown at him for a moment, trying to decide whether or not he's being serious. Eventually, I decide that he is, because, like I said before, he's a shitty actor. _Okay, _I don't say, _can we pretend this never happened, then? _

Jasper shoots me a questioning look, eyes glittering with mirth. _Forget that _what_ ever happened?_

He's playing dumb, to smooth over any awkwardness.

God help me, I fucking love this boy.

I laugh, and muss up his hair with one hand, before heading back out to the deck. I can feel his pursuit behind me a moment later.

When I sneak a glance over my shoulder, he's wearing an introspective look and a slight smile on his face that makes me think that, just maybe, we might be able to gloss over this and move on with our friendship like nothing has ever happened.

He settles into the seat beside me, as Emmett and I strike up a conversation. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and I can read his gaze like an open book. He's saying; _I don't care if you're crushing on me, you're not going to stop being my friend_.

The relief I feel is almost palpable. I throw back my head and laugh at whatever Emmett's just said, though I don't even know if it's funny or not. He seems to appreciate my appreciation of his humor, though, so I figure I've made the right call. I flick my tongue and catch my piercing between my teeth, chewing away on it.

I can feel Jasper watching me. His stare burns my skin like an open flame, but it's not an entirely unwelcome feeling. It makes me feel alive, and exposed, and, weirdly, kind of liberated.

That's not something I ever expected in this backwoods little town.

"So, what time are we buildin' the bonfire?" Emmett asks, eyeing the darkening sky.

"A little after eight, I think," I say. "But maybe we should build it sooner. Or at least start gathering wood or something." Lord knows, if I look at Jasper long enough, I'll have plenty of wood to go around.

"I dunno, that sounds like a pretty good idea."

"What do you think?" I turn to Jasper. He jumps, like he's been in a little dream world this whole time. Too fucking cute.

"I… uh… agree with you."

I cock one eyebrow at him. "You're a moron, Hale. I was asking what time we should think about building the bonfire."

"Oh." And now he's blushing. And I'm swooning. Again. "I wasn't really listening, sorry."

"No shit, Sherlock." I chuckle at the expense of both of our dorky asses, and then flash him a crooked smile.

When the fireworks eventually start, Jasper and I are standing side by side on the deck while everyone else is spread out on the grass below. Emmett has been doing a tribal dance around the fire for our collective amusement for the past twenty minutes, but when the fireworks start up, he jogs over to Rosalie, catches her around the waist, and proceeds to kiss the ever living daylights out of her.

Oh, how I wish I could do the same thing to Hale Sr.

Jasper spots them furiously making out, and he scowls.

"Oh, man, seriously?"

I turn to look at him, missing the explosive pink firework overhead completely. It bathes his face in a pinkish glow, though. "What's up?"

"Emmett has his tongue down my baby sister's throat," Jasper shudders delicately.

"And that's a problem?" I challenge, folding my arms across my chest and leaning up against the railing, facing him.

"It's just not somethin' I wanna see." He shrugs.

"Then don't look."

He raises his eyebrows slightly. "It's that simple, is it?"

"Here's the thing, Jazz," I sigh. I lean against the rail and spare Emmett and Rosalie a quick glance before my gaze is drawn back to Jasper like my eyes are on elastic. "D'you have any idea what it's like to feel disapproving or disgusted stares on you when you're making out with someone you like?"

He shakes his head. Of course he doesn't. "No, I guess not."

"I do," I murmur. "And it fucking sucks. People should be free to express their love or affection for each other whenever or wherever they want. You know, within reason. And anyone who has a problem with it just… should look away. Because it's none of their damn business."

I try not to be affected by my own words, really, I do, but I've had my share of heat – and not the good kind – for simply kissing one of my boyfriends in the street, and nowhere near as aggressively as Em and Rose are going at it.

"I didn't mean you, Edward," Jasper whispers. "I don't have a problem with… any of that stuff. It's just my little sister."

"The principle still applies," I argue. "Don't like it? Don't look."

"When did you become some Zen master givin' me life lessons?" Jasper teases, nudging me with his shoulder.

He grins widely at me, all straight white teeth and dimples. I feel an answering smile spread across my face, but it falters slightly. "Um, Jasper?"

"Yeah?"

"About… about what you overheard earlier…" God, I really don't want to talk about it, but I feel like I need to get it off my chest. I just wish that my face wasn't burning quite so badly. I feel like I'm about to spontaneously combust.

"Don't worry about it," Jasper dismisses with a wave of one, long-fingered hand.

"No, I just…" I take a deep breath. _Suck it up, Cullen._ "I just wanted you to know that I will get over it. Eventually. So I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't start avoiding me or anything, because you're my best friend here and that would really suck."

Jasper smiles again, and nudges me with his shoulder once more. "C'mon, Teddy, as if I'd avoid you. I'm a good-lookin' guy. Frankly, I'd be insulted if you didn't feel that way."

I can't help but laugh at that. I shake my head. "Jackass."

"Yeah," Jasper hedges, "but you love it."

He gives me a roguish wink. I tut and roll my eyes, trying to pretend that my legs haven't just turned halfway into the consistency of jell-o. "You're so damn full of yourself."

"Well, you're only addin' to the ego, Cullen, by thinkin' I'm dead sexy," he jokes.

I reach out and jab him sharply in the ribs with my fingertips. "You know what? Keep talking like this, because if you do, I'll be over it in no time."

He jabs me back. "Oh, very nice!"

We continue trading pokes and prods until the pair of us crack up laughing, hanging onto the railing with one hand and each other's shoulders with the other when our legs threaten to give out underneath us from the force of our laughter. When we eventually straighten up, I realize something. It's quiet, and everyone else is heading back towards the deck, chattering excitedly while Maggie dozes on Mom's shoulder, snoring her pretty little head off.

We missed the display.

And I really couldn't give a flying fuck about it.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**PJ**

**x**


	4. December

**A/N - Hello, all!**

**I'm glad you're still sticking with my boys. I intend to post a Jasper chapter of NY ILY tonight, too, so stay tuned. (Edward seemed to want his say first). **

**Oh, and by the way, I'm loving how you all keep calling him Teddy in the reviews :D **

* * *

_**Four**_

I'm on my way to Jasper's house to pick him up for some Christmas shopping when my hands-free starts ringing. I frown down at the dashboard, bewildered for a moment, because I honestly had no idea that my car even comes with a built-in phone. Cool.

When I figure out how to answer the call, I push the button.

"Y'ello?"

"Edward, it's me."

I roll my eyes at that. Why do people always answer the phone with 'it's me' like I should immediately recognize their voice? Voices always come out a bit distorted on the phone anyway. I mean, would it kill a person to actually say their name?

Granted, in this instance, the deep English accent can only really belong to one person.

"Hey, Dad, what's up?"

"I just wanted to call and tell you the good news."

"You mean, that there's a speaker phone in my car? Because that's seriously something I had no idea about until just now."

I take the next left down Jasper's street, rolling to a stop outside his house. No sign of him, yet. I'm not surprised. He's always running late. I bet he's not even doing anything productive. Just sitting watching TV or some shit.

"No, I mean that your cousin is spending Christmas in Texas with us."

I eye the speaker unit warily, even though he can't see me. "Which cousin?"

"Alice."

And then, to my eternal embarrassment, I squeal like a fucking girl. No, wait, worse; I squeal like Alice would. "Seriously? That's fucking awesome!"

"Language, son."

"What? You've got something against the word 'awesome' now?"

"Don't try to be cute, Edward, you know fine well what I meant."

I grin. "Okay, sorry. So, when does she get here?"

"Friday. Make sure you're home from school on time." He pauses. "Are you at Jasper's?"

"Yeah, just got here."

"Edward…" he sighs.

"What?"

"You left the house five minutes ago."

I'm completely missing his point. "Yeah, so?"

"So, it's a ten minute drive. You were speeding."

"Not badly…"

"If you did a ten-minute drive in five minutes, you were going twice as fast as you should've been."

I groan. "Who died and made you Pythagoras?"

He tries to stop himself from chuckling, but fails. "I'll let you off, because that was marginally amusing, but don't you dare speed on your way to wherever you're going."

"I won't. Jasper always bitches at me if I go over the speed limit."

I can almost hear Dad's smile. "He's a sensible boy. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Dad."

The call cuts off, and I glance towards the house. Still no sign of Jasper. Impatient, I honk the horn, and am rewarded a couple minutes later by the sight of Jasper hurrying out the front door, shrugging on a jacket as he goes.

A heartbeat later, and Lillian Hale, Jasper's mom, comes striding out. Her hands are all wet and soapy from dishwater, and she looks as though she's bitching at him about something. He sighs, rolls his eyes, and then stoops to give her a kiss on the cheek. They exchange a couple more words, and she disappears back into the house. Jasper shakes his head wearily, and then jogs the rest of the way to the car, cracking open the passenger door and sliding in.

He's barely sat down before I start with the snark. "So, is she a good kisser?"

"Fuck you, buddy," he grumbles, face heating up.

"Alright, Jazz, where to?"

"I dunno. It's only a bit of shoppin'. The mall?"

I gape at him in disbelief. "The mall?" I twist in my chair to glower at him full-force. "For Christmas shopping? We aren't going to be more creative than that?"

"You're the creative one," he says. "You tell me."

Honestly, sometimes, I really don't know why I put up with him. Okay, well, I do. It's because he's like sex personified and the best friend I could ever have to boot. I don't say that, though. "I don't know why the hell I put up with you sometimes, Hale."

"Cuz I'm your best friend?" He weirdly echoes my thoughts. Well, half of them, anyway.

I narrow my eyes mockingly. "You realize that you don't get to use that one as a comeback for the rest of the week, now?"

"Damn it. Played that card too soon."

"Rookie mistake."

I pull away from the house as Jasper's doing up his seatbelt, and I can't resist flooring it a little. Of course, Jasper notices before I even get the dial up to sixty.

"Dude…" he warns.

I grin. "We're living on the edge, Jazz."

"And I'd kinda like to keep livin', if it's all the same to you." He jerks his head in the direction of the dash. "Drop the speed, before you wrap us around a tree."

"Alright, mom," I grumble, but I ease up on the gas a little. "You know, living in Manhattan, I never really got to drive all that much. It's probably the one thing that I like about Texas."

"The _one_ thing?" Jasper pretends to be hurt. "How quickly you dismiss our love!"

I grin. I'm not dismissing anything, if he's offering to give me some lovin'. "Okay, one of the two things." And then I remember what Dad just told me. "Oh, did I tell you?"

"Gee, I dunno. Be vaguer, Cullen."

I smile. "My cousin is coming to town. She's gonna be staying with us over Christmas."

"Oh, really? Where's she visitin' from?"

"London. You're gonna love her." Everyone does. Alice is one of those rare and brilliant people who can be off-the-charts obnoxious and insanely endearing in one breath.

Jasper looks really intrigued. "What's her name? What's she like?"

"Alice Brandon. She's my mom's sister's daughter, and she's probably my favorite family member. She's twenty. She's… well, she's kinda quirky, and she never fucking shuts up, and she likes to get her own way, and I've literally never met anyone who's so into clothes…"

"So far, I'm sensin' the family resemblance," He interrupts. I grin.

"If you think I'm bad…" I give a soft whistle, and then launch into an exaggerated impression of Jasper's drawl. "Hot da-yum, boy, you ain't seen nothin' yet!"

He throws back his head and barks out a laugh. "Oh, Jesus, this town is gonna be in some serious trouble."

"With Alice around? No question."

I've been increasing my speed subtly while we were talking, but now Jasper picks up on it again. He practically growls at me, and I shift in my seat as my jeans get a little tighter than they were a minute ago. "Slow the fuck down, Cullen, otherwise you don't get to drive next time." I comply, muttering about him not playing fair in a voice so low that he doesn't hear. Thank God. "So, when does she get into town?"

I grin evilly. "On Friday."

* * *

We end up in Corsicana, of course, because I'm driving, and I can wear Jasper down pretty easily, now that I know him so well. It only takes a bit of pouting and grumbling and… hey presto! Edward wins. It's kind of fun.

For a couple of hours, we mainly trail around from store to store, picking out stuff for our sisters. I buy Maggie a ton of crap that she probably doesn't have any use for, and a princess outfit that Mom won't object to her wearing around the house, and then I nearly bust a gut laughing when I find out that Jasper got his big sister Kate kickboxing lessons for Christmas. The more I hear about this girl, the more I think I'm a little bit in love with her.

Not half as much as I'm in love with her brother, though.

I manage to wheedle my way into convincing Jasper to come to one of my favorite coffee shops for lunch. It's a little bit hipster for his tastes, but he relents when I describe in sinful detail the types of coffee they serve. He's a sucker for caffeine.

I'm stirring creamer into my coffee as our food is set down, when Jasper suddenly kicks me sharply under the table.

"Ow!" I wince. "The fuck was that for?"

"That waitress was totally checking you out, and you ignored her."

Is he for real? I jab my finger at my own face. "Hi. Edward Cullen. Homo. Have we met?"

Jasper chokes on a laugh, but recovers himself. "That's not the point. You should still have acknowledged her. She might've given us money off our bill."

Now I'm the one holding back laughter. Wholesome Jasper Hale has a bit of a bad boy streak. Who'd've thunk it. "That's despicable, Hale."

"I prefer to think of it as usin' what God gave ya."

I can't help it. I crack up. "You are _so_ going to Hell."

Jasper takes a disproportionately large bite of his sandwich and grins around it. It kind of amazes me how he manages to make _that_ look sexy. "I'll save ya a seat."

"You better," I warn him. "I don't want to end up sitting next to Crowley for my eternal damnation."

"I doubt you will. He's a good, God fearin' Christian boy. He'll be up at the pearly gates, enjoyin' the climate while we enjoy the company."

Not likely. He's banging his next-door-neighbor's wife. I saw them going at it in the back of his truck a couple days back. God doesn't like adultery so much. "Ha. I wouldn't be so sure."

"Why not?"

I just shrug at him, not wanting to divulge dirty little secrets that aren't mine to tell. It all comes out sooner or later anyway. I curl my tongue over my teeth, trapping my tongue bar, and then nearly bite the thing clean off when Jasper aims another kick at me.

"Ow! The waitress isn't even here!" I protest.

"I didn't kick you about that, this time."

What, does he just enjoy beating me up? "Then what the fuck are you kicking me for?"

"Don't bite your tongue bar, you'll ruin your teeth."

I gape at him. "What are you, my _mother_?"

Jasper shrugs. "Fine. Have it your way, but don't come cryin' to me when your teeth are all chipped and that pretty face ain't so pretty anymore."

I scoff at him. I can't believe he actually said I have a pretty face. He must be kidding. "Pretty face? Funny."

He frowns, looking all serious. "You're shittin' me, right?"

"About what?" I'm nonplussed.

"You don't see yourself very clearly, Cullen. You act all surprised when people think you're hot."

Oh. My. Fucking. God. "Are you saying I'm hot?"

"I'm sayin' don't act surprised." Which is basically the same thing, right? I watch him take a swig of his coffee and scratch the back of his head awkwardly, not meeting my gaze. "And, you know, objectively speaking, yeah. I'd say you're a looker."

Oh, fuck me. I'm actually going to pass out. Jasper thinks I'm a looker. I mean, I know it's all just 'objective' or whatever, but still…"Thanks, Jasper."

He fucking kicks me _again_!

"Fucking ow! What have I done this time?"

Jasper smiles, all dimples and white teeth and sparkling blue eyes. "Quit swoonin' about me and eat your damn food."

"I wasn't fucking swooning over you," I lie. "That was _so_ six weeks ago."

Jasper laughs.

* * *

It's Friday, and I'm annihilating the speed limit to get over to my house, practically bouncing in my seat from excitement. It's like I've been infected with the ghost of Christmas Alice or something.

With a screech of my tires – Jasper, sitting in the passenger seat, actually shuts his eyes and clings on to the dashboard, white-knuckled – I pull up into my driveway and tear myself out of the car, almost forgetting to kill the engine in my excitement.

Jasper follows me at a much calmer, more rational pace, and I'm halfway up the gravel path when the front door is flung open and I hear her high-pitched shriek;

"TEDDY!"

Alice comes hurtling down the steps towards me like a purple-and-black missile, and launches herself into my arms. The impact takes us both down, but I couldn't give a flying fuck, because I haven't seen her in eight months, and she's finally here.

She helps me to my feet and I grin down at her, joyous. She hasn't changed a bit. Still barely clearing five foot in her high-heels, still rocking the black skinny jeans look that she inspired in yours truly, and still with the feathered black pixie cut.

"Have you missed me?" she teases, and just hearing her voice without the aid of a computer speaker makes me want to pick her up and spin her round until we're both dizzy.

"You bet, half-pint."

She shoves me, and then her eyes land on Jasper. I inhale sharply. "Ooh, Edward, who's this?"

_Please be cool, Ali. Please be cool_. I chant silently.

"This is my friend, Jasper. Jasper, my cousin Alice."

She skips on over to him and extends her tiny hand. Looking entertained, Jasper takes it. "So, Jasper, are you Arthur or Martha?"

_Facepalm moment. _Jasper laughs.

"I'm straight," he says, still chuckling at her.

"Sucks to be Edward." I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. No, wait, I want the ground to open up and swallow Alice's pixie ass whole. Was I really just excited to see her a moment ago? Now I kind of want to duct tape her lips shut. "A face like yours… well, you might even be able to set me on the straight and narrow."

Jasper looks astonished. "So you're…?"

"Yup. Homo runs in the family, just like wit, charm and a killer body."

Jasper's grin stretches so big that I'm worried it might actually break his face in two. Alice cranes her neck round at me, mouths 'wow, he's _hot_' and then begins to make her way back up to the house. Jasper and I fall into step either side of her, catching her up in a couple of strides.

"How long are you stayin' in town?" Jasper asks her.

"Well…" Instead of going inside, Alice strolls over to the porch swing and sits down, crossing one leg over the other at the knee and reaching into her back pocket to produce a pack of smokes and a lighter. She takes one out, lights it, and then tosses the pack to me. God fucking bless this girl. I haven't had a smoke in nearly three weeks, since I bummed one off some guy at the auto shop.

Jasper sits himself down on the swing beside Ali, his attention on her, and I light up.

"I'm staying for Christmas and then maybe a little longer. I don't know, I might even stay until university starts up again in January." She sucks on her cigarette with blood-red lips. I always hate sharing a smoke with Alice for that exact reason. Crimson lipstick? Not exactly my color. "Depends on how well my darling little cousin entertains me."

Jasper's watching me as I take a drag on my own cigarette, looking kind of stunned. Oh, yeah, he doesn't know I smoke. Or, well, he didn't. I wonder if he disapproves.

"Cuz," I say, blowing out a few smoke rings. They come away as perfect circles. Wicked, I haven't lost my touch. "I can't exactly guarantee you non-stop fun over here. We aren't in New York, anymore."

"More's the pity," Alice sighs. She flicks her cigarette to get rid of the excess ash, and I notice that Jasper jerks his foot back to avoid getting hit with it. "Do you remember last New Year's Eve, Ted?"

It's a blur, but what I do remember, we had a fucking blast. Policemen play a small but crucial role in my hazy memory. "Do I ever. I thought you were gonna get us arrested."

"I nearly did. Did you ever figure out how we ended up in Newark?" she asks.

"No, my memory is still mostly blank from that night. Kind of like your nineteenth birthday party in Shoreditch."

"Oh my God!" she giggles, clapping one hand to her mouth. "Do you remember that guy you were talking to that night?"

"Which one?" I smirk.

"The blond one with the Mohawk." Oh, God, of course she means that one. The drunken mistake whose name evades me.

"Oh, yeah. He's one of your new roommates, isn't he? What's his name again?"

"Alec."

"Right." I'm trying not to laugh, because Jasper's head is whipping back and forth between us like he doesn't have a clue what's going on. I realize that he probably doesn't. "He was a fucking terrible kisser."

"Well, he _was_ really hammered," Alice allows.

"So was I. Not an excuse." Because even when I'm drunk, I know I've got skills. It's not bragging if it's true.

We both take a drag of our cigarettes at the same time, and then I decide to take pity on Jasper, because he still seems really confused. "Sorry, Jazz, I bet you're totally lost right now." I glance down at the cigarettes in my hand, and then offer the pack to him. "You want one?"

"No, thanks," He shakes his head. I figured he wouldn't. "Athlete, remember? Smoking's bad."

"So are we," Alice smirks. I can't help but snicker a little.

"I'm startin' to see that," Jasper says, and he's got this mischievous sparkle in his eye that totally makes me feel hot all over. "You've been keepin' all these stories to yourself," he accuses, and I just shrug in response.

"Oh, Teddy, have you been trying to pretend that you're all sweet and innocent?" Alice teases, clucking her tongue at me. "We can't have that."

"Go ahead and sully my reputation all you want, half-pint," I say coolly. "I don't have much of one round here, anyway."

She gives me the don't-put-yourself-down look, and then turns to Jasper with a big-ass smile. "Want to hear some stories about my baby cousin's bad boy antics?"

"I kinda do." He smirks.

"Keep it clean, Ali," I warn her. I know how explicit she gets with her stories. "Don't go into graphic detail about… stuff."

She blinks at me for a moment. "What, you mean sex stuff?"

I shrug, feeling a little embarrassed. "Yeah. I guess. Jazz probably doesn't want to hear about… that sort of thing."

Now Jasper's frowning at me. "I can take it. It's not like I'm exactly pure and innocent. Besides, you think I don't hear enough graphic sex talk hangin' out in the locker rooms with the football team?"

"Yeah, but that's… different."

"Why? Cuz it's boy-girl?"

Well, yeah. He's not exactly going to freak out about 'normal' sex stuff, because it's not like he hasn't been there before. Alice is alternating glares between the two of us now, but I can tell that her disappointment is reserved for me. She warned me to just be myself and not hold anything back when I moved here.

"Fuck's sake, Edward!" Jasper hisses. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care before you'll believe me?"

"People round here…" I start to justify myself, but he cuts across me.

"I'm not like the other people round here, and you damn well know it. I'm not some bigoted prick, so stop actin' like I'm suddenly gonna turn into one. Jesus!"

He's glaring at me, now, and I feel kind of bad. I look down at the floor and scuff my toes across the wooden boards, not wanting to meet either of their gazes.

"Take the boy at his word, Teddy, and chill the fuck out," Alice says bluntly. "I know you've been walking around on tenterhooks the entire time you've been here, but maybe the people in the South aren't as bad as you thought they were going to be."

I risk a glance up at them both, and immediately meet Jasper's eyes. I know he sees the shame and apology in mine, but I'm hoping that he doesn't see the slight reticence… because as much as I want to, I still don't quite believe him.

"_Men_," Alice grumbles to nobody in particular. "Is it any wonder I don't want anything to do with you people?"

We both look over at her to see her slumped down in her chair with her arms crossed so tightly that she looks unlikely to ever unfurl them again.

I chance a glance at Jasper. He's looking at me with amusement

We can't hold it in, and we both burst out laughing.

* * *

Christmas comes and goes without much incident. Alice grills me incessantly about my feelings towards Jasper, which I try to avoid talking about in too much detail, but even she can agree that he's really something to look at, so that's at least partway to validating my obsessive, all-consuming love for the boy.

Jasper loves the present I got him. It took me forever to find it. I remembered him saying about how his favorite book was _On The Road_, so I dragged Alice around every used book store in the county until I found a first edition. I give it to him on Christmas Eve, and he gives me tickets to this concert I've been dying to go to for months. It's a really sweet gesture, because the tickets are pretty expensive and I know that he doesn't have much money, so I'm over the fucking moon that he'd get them for me. When Jasper opens mine, he kind of looks like he might cry, and he just pulls me in for this massive hug that seems to go on for about a fortnight.

And, just like that, he's made my fucking Christmas.

Maggie falls asleep in her Christmas dinner, the same as she does every year. Mom overindulges on the eggnog, and Dad has to carry her to bed. Alice and I then have to turn our iPods up full blast while we sleep, because we both know from many a scarring experience that my parents get kind of frisky when they've been drinking.

And that's just too fucking creepy to even think about, let alone hear.

The week after Christmas is a strange one. I find myself spending lots of quality one-on-one time with Rosalie, of all people. She begged me on bended knee to let her help me work on restoring my Dad's old Merc – who knew cheerleaders were interested in mechanics – and we're in my garage, tinkering away for the third day in a row when an interesting – and fairly mortifying – topic comes up.

Jasper.

I roll out from under the car to see Rose standing over me, her long blonde hair pulled up into a bun and her eyes serious as she hands me a wrench.

"Edward, about Jasper…"

I freeze up. "Yeah?"

"Well, it's just… you know he's not, like, into guys, right?"

Oh. Dear. God. I cannot be having this conversation with my best friend's kid sister. "Um, yeah, Rose. I know that. Why?"

_Yeah, ask an open-ended question and continue the conversation, Edward. What are you, the village idiot?_ I chide myself mentally.

"Well, it's just… I've seen the way you look at him, sometimes… and the book you got him for Christmas was real thoughtful… way better than any of his other shit…"

"Uh huh," I prompt, trying to ignore the little thrill of smugness that shoots through me when she tells me how much he appreciated it. "So?"

"So, I'm just sayin'… be careful, is all. You're a real cool guy, and I don't care that you're gay and that, neither does Jasper or anyone, but I just don't want you to get your hopes up and get all attached to my brother, cuz he ain't never gonna feel the same way."

Her violet eyes are kind of sad as she says this, like she's the one who is letting me down gently. I sort of want to curl up in a little ball and die of humiliation right now.

"Well, you don't have to worry, Rose, because I'm not, like, in love with him or anything." Surely the biggest lie I've ever told.

She buys it, though, because she seems to brighten considerably. "Oh, good. I just wanted to make sure. You're gonna make some guy real happy someday, Edward, even though it ain't my brother."

That is an uncharacteristically sweet thing for her to say, so I smile, and decide to let her whole intervention thing go. "So, do you want to just forget about the car and we can go inside and braid each other's hair and watch rom-coms?"

Rosalie rolls her eyes in a very Jasper-like way, and, just like that, the awkwardness of the conversation evaporates. "Jackass."

* * *

Alice has managed to score us tickets for this New Years party in Corsicana, and I genuinely don't know how she pulled it off, but I'm not going to ask questions. Any night with Alice in the mix is guaranteed to be – well, even if it turns out not to be fun, then at least it'll always be _interesting_. She dresses me with the critical eye of a girl majoring in the arts, and I have to admit, I look pretty good in my wine-colored shirt and tightest skinny jeans.

Alice, of course, is a total knockout in her barely-there black dress and fuck-me heels. She and I endure the 'drinking responsibly' lecture from my parents, and then she practically runs us out the house and down to my car.

We've got a room in a motel for the night, so that we don't have to worry about getting home trashed, and we can still drive up there. It's a good call on my cousin's part.

I kick the car into gear, enjoying the fact that Alice lets me drive above the speed limit on the way to Jasper's house.

"Hey, Teddy," she says conversationally, leaning over the back seat.

"Uh huh?"

"I went out for a drink with Jasper the other day…"

"I know," I say, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the road. I'm unsure about where this conversation is actually going.

"And I asked him why he doesn't have a girlfriend, right…"

"Right…" I'm growing increasingly wary by this point. "And he said?"

"Well, he said he doesn't think about it, really. He's just not been bothered."

"So?" I say. "Is there some law that says a guy has to have a girlfriend?"

"No," Alice hedges. "But the quarterback of a small-town football team who looks – quite frankly – like the kind of guy you'd want to lick from head to toe, and don't give me that face, Teddy, don't act like you haven't thought about doing it – well, it just seems kind of… odd."

"Please tell me you didn't ask him what I think you asked him?" I mutter.

"Well, no. I'm not a complete idiot. But, Teddy, I'm not entirely convinced that Jasper isn't batting for your team."

My hands clench on the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn white, and I take my eyes off the road for a moment to throw her an incredulous look. "You what?"

"I'm saying… I wouldn't write him off as a hopeless case just yet. I think you might actually have a shot with him."

"Alice," I hiss. "Please don't fuck with me like this. It's not funny."

"Do you see me laughing?" she says, and there's not a trace of humor in her voice.

We pull up at Jasper's then, and my heart is going like the fucking clappers while she jumps out of the back and races up to the front door, heels clacking all the way. I feel like I can't breathe.

Could Alice be right?

Could I have been right, the first time I met him?

No.

Not possible.

_Get it out of your head, Edward, before you end up breaking yourself in two. _

I'm still lost in my own thoughts as I hear the car doors open at the side of me, and then Jasper's voice breaks through my reverie.

"Hey, Edward, are you ready to get completely shitfaced and…"

He trails off, sucking in a breath. I glance at him questioningly, to see his eyes fixed on me, about twice as wide as they usually are. He blinks, and the expression is gone. I take the opportunity to quickly check him out.

Holy fucking hell, you can see his abs through his t-shirt!

Jasper always looks like some kind of angel – I know it's corny, but whatever – but right now, wearing the new clothes Alice bought him for Christmas, he's the opposite. He looks like sin given human form.

Alice is totally right. I want to lick him from head to toe, and take my time doing it.

I clear my throat and slyly adjust myself. Maybe the tightest pair of jeans I own weren't such a good idea in hindsight, because I have a feeling this is going to get very painful… "You look good, Hale. Did Alice dress you?"

Jasper grins, and, fuck me, he's beautiful. "Yeah. Well, not physically, but she picked this stuff out." He plucks at the front of his shirt self-consciously. "You don't think the top's too small?"

I decide that I might as well show my appreciation in a joking way. "I'm probably the wrong person to ask."

I shoot him a wink.

And… Jasper turns fucking _scarlet_. He's so red that I can see the blush even in the dim green glow of the dashboard clock.

He quickly turns his head to look out of the window, and I'm worried that I've made him feel uncomfortable. I'm about to apologize, but he speaks first.

"Alright, man," he says, still not looking at me. "But if I get kicked out for looking indecent, you guys only have yourselves to blame."

"If I get kicked out for jumping on you, you only have yourself to blame," I mutter, quiet enough that he can't hear. Alice, who is hovering right beside me, does, however, and she laughs quietly.

* * *

We dump our stuff in the motel room, and then head straight out to the party.

It's like a proper New York party, teeming with life, and sweat, and the smell of spilled booze, and I grin at the others in excitement as we fight our way through the crowds of grinding and swaying people towards the bar. Both of them look equally stoked, and they're examining the crowd with interest; scoping out potentials, probably.

Alice waves some shot girls over, and insists on making Jasper and I down six tequilas and a couple of vodka shooters in a row before we even get our drinks. Jasper throws in another round of shots for good measure, and I'm already feeling the buzz as we fracture off in our own directions.

About ten minutes later, I accidentally stumble over some guy standing by a booth. He shoots out an arm to catch me by the elbow, and then flashes me a grin. He's all tan and blond, kind of like… Jasper. Only nowhere near as hot. But I'm drunk by this point, so he still looks pretty good.

"Watch yourself there, man," he says, in a Texas drawl that's not nearly as nice as Jasper's, but good enough.

"Sorry, I didn't see you," I say. "I'm kinda wasted."

"Me, too," he admits, with a laugh. He sticks out his hand. "I'm Josh."

"Edward," I yell over the music.

I don't know how it happens, but the next thing I know, we're making out up against a wall. It's kind of sloppy and drunken, but the way his hips are grinding against mine as he backs me up into the corner is turning me on, and I'm starved for sexual contact in this fucking state, so I get pretty into it.

He's not a bad kisser, or anything.

He moans into my mouth as I tug on his waist to pull him closer to me, and he deepens the kiss.

Okay, now he's kind of suffocating me…

I pull back a little, so that I'm not choking on his tongue, and then, out of nowhere, he jerks backwards like I've hit him.

"Dude, what is it?" I slur, because I'm way past hammered and I can't make my words come out coherently.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes wide and panicked. "What the fuck am I doin'?! How fuckin' drunk am I? What the fuck do you think _you're_ doin', you fuckin' queer?"

"Hey," I say, holding my hands up and smirking. "I'll own up to it. But, just so's you know, it kinda takes one to know one."

The next thing I know, a fist comes flying at my face, and pain explodes in my lip. My head snaps back and hits the wall, hard, but it's a testament to how drunk I am that the pain vanishes a minute later.

Along with Josh, who just spins on one heel and hauls ass out of the club like there's a pack of wolves chasing him.

I blink, confused for a second, and touch my hand to my lip. My fingers come away wet and glistening with red. Blood. Huh.

I'm bleeding.

Wait, I'm bleeding?

Did that fucker actually just _hit_ me?

What the hell? Issues, much?

I don't even have the sobriety to get angry about it. I just kind of sigh slightly.

And then I feel a hand on my arm, and I flinch back instinctively, whipping around.

I nearly pass out with relief.

It's Jasper, and he's reaching for me. I let him pull me close enough so that I can hear him over the pounding of the music.

"Edward, what the hell happened?" he demands, blue eyes ablaze with concern, as I wipe my hand on my jeans.

"Nothing. It's fine. Don't worry."

He grabs my shoulders and shakes me slightly, just once. "Tell me."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to _me_." There's such sincerity shining in his gaze that I can't refuse him.

I'd never refuse him anything.

"Alright… well, I was kissing some guy and then he seemed to freak out about what he was doing and he punched me and took off. It's not a big deal. It happens." I shrug.

Jasper's whole demeanor changes. And, when I say changes, I mean _it changes_. I've always thought of Jasper as powerful but placid. Harmless, really.

I couldn't have been more wrong. Sweet he might be, but right now, he's burning with a rage so bright that I actually want to shield my eyes. He still looks like an angel, only now, it's the avenging kind. The kind that would rain fire down on the Earth and watch it burn. "He _what_?! That doesn't just fuckin' _happen_! What kind of fuckin' _cunt_ would do that?"

"A sexually confused one," I say. He's not scaring _me_, because I know he'd never hurt me, but he's still scary. It's only now that I get it. He might be a softie at heart, but don't let it fool you – Jasper Hale is _dangerous_. "Calm down, Jazz. It's okay."

"I'll kick his ass." I don't doubt it. He looks like he could rip something limb from limb, barehanded.

"It's too late. He left. Let it go." I'm suddenly fighting tears. Why, tonight of all nights, do I have to be an emotional drunk? Why do I have to make out with the guy who wants to deck me when he realizes what he's doing?

Am I really that bad?

The fight seems to drain out of Jasper as he's studying me.

"Fine. Then we're leaving."

"No, you were having fun… I can't just…" I protest, but he cuts me off authoritatively. I've never heard him be like that before.

It's… fucking hot, if I'm honest.

"We're going, Edward. Where's Alice?"

I grin, but it hurts, so it turns into a grimace fairly quickly. "She left with some blonde chick just after midnight."

Jasper glances at his watch, blinks a couple of times, and then just ropes one arm around my waist. I lean on his shoulder as he walks me out to the door.

* * *

By some miracle, we manage to make it back to the motel. It takes Jasper three tries to get the key in the door, which makes me laugh.

"Let me…" I offer, groping for the key.

Jasper moves out of my way, and I open the door on the second attempt. I sway drunkenly over to one of the beds and sit down heavily, while Jasper shuts the door behind us. Reaching over, I turn on the lamp, though I have to cling to the bedcovers to keep from sliding off the side.

Holy shit, I'm drunk.

Jasper disappears off into the bathroom for a minute, and then comes back to sit down at my side. He's holding something in his hand. A damp washcloth.

He brings one leg across the bed, swiveling so that he's facing me. Or, he would be facing me, if I wasn't just staring down at my own knees. The events of tonight are starting to catch up to me, and I'm not gonna lie, I'm fucking embarrassed.

Why am I so fucking hopeless?

I nearly jump out of my skin as I feel Jasper's fingers brush under my chin and grab hold. He gently tilts my head up and turns my face so that I'm looking at him.

Jesus Christ, his eyes are so fucking blue.

"Jasper…" I murmur, trying to move out of his grip. I can't think when he's touching me.

"Hold still. I'm gonna clean your lip, 'kay?"

His voice is so gentle that I can't help but nod in response. I know he's drunk, too, from the too-bright eyes and the slightly uncoordinated movements, but he's trying his best to be careful as he cleans my lip up with the warm flannel.

I've never had someone want to take care of me like this before, and it's making my head spin. Or maybe that's because I'm holding my breath. I let it out in a sigh when he eventually releases my chin, though I can still feel the burn of his touch.

He studies me for a moment. "Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that what happened isn't your fault, right? He was just bein' a… well, I dunno. Like you said, he was probably confused. It had nothin' to do with you." He runs one hand through his hair, like he doesn't know what else to say. "Or… you know, you might just be a fuckin' terrible kisser."

I laugh, because I know he's trying to cheer me up, and it's kind of working. His very presence is soothing my fraught emotions.

I reach over and jab him in the stomach, because my drunken brain really wants to know if his abs are as hard as they look.

They are. Sigh.

"Ow!"

He jabs me back.

"Hey!"

I sit there for a second, chewing on my tongue ring, trying to think of something else to say. Bit by bit, I can feel the intoxication decreasing, though I'm still a long way to sober.

Jasper lifts his hand, reaching out towards my face. I don't know what he's planning on doing, but I catch his palm before he can actually touch me. Then, without even thinking about it, I lace my fingers through his.

He stills, looking at me questioningly.

Shit… I didn't mean to take his hand. Um, backpedal…

I push the heel of my palm forward and start bending his wrist back on itself.

"Ow! Ow! Motherfucker! Stop it!" Jasper laughs, trying to squirm out of my grip. He's too drunk to manage it properly, though.

"Say 'uncle'!" I practically sing at him.

"Never!" he chuckles, wincing.

"Say it!"

I bend his wrist a little further, and he cries out, "Uncle! I give, I give!"

I relent, and I pull his hand back into a more comfortable position. I can't bring myself to let go of his fingers, though.

But then, he's not pulling away either…

"Thanks, Jazz. Who knew torturing you could make me feel better?" I say, smiling at him.

His answering smile is blinding.

I don't think. I've lost the ability to form thoughts, anyway. All I can focus on is how much I want to kiss him right now.

So I lean forwards, and that's exactly what I do.

It barely lasts a second, just a brush of my bruised lips against his, and they're soft, and pouty, and better than I ever imagined.

It's the best second of my entire life.

Until I realize what I'm fucking doing, and I pull back with a gasp.

Jasper's staring at me with eyes so wide that I'm kind of worried they're going to fall right out of his head. He's not even breathing as he sits there, like he's made of marble or something.

Oh, fuck, what have I _done_?

"Shit, I…" I let go of his hand like I've been electrocuted, and both of mine instantly tangle in my hair, like they always do when I'm stressed out of my fucking mind.

He's still not breathing…

Oh, God. I kissed him! What the fuck was I thinking? I crossed a very, very big line. There's no coming back from something like this.

He's still not fucking breathing…

I need to say something. Anything. An apology? A joke? _Hell, actual words will do, Edward_! "I'm sorry, I don't know what I… _mmpfh_!"

I don't manage to get the sentence out, because his arm flies out.

_Oh, God, he's going to hit me, too… _

His palm cups the back of my neck, and suddenly his lips crash back into mine.

I freeze for the space of a single heartbeat, stunned beyond all reason.

Jasper Hale is kissing me.

_Wait, Jasper _fucking_ Hale is kissing _me_? Why the hell am I frozen like an ice sculpture?_

My hand fists around the material of the front of his shirt as the other one slides up into his soft, honey curls. He braces one hand on the bed, just behind me, while the other one lands on my hip.

And he starts kissing me for real, now. I'm not talking a chaste, friend kiss like I'd give Seth or someone. I'm talking the kind of kissing that epic poems are made of; open mouthed, breathing in each other's breath, fingers clutching at each other hard enough to leave a mark. My tongue flicks out to taste his lips, and I swallow first a groan, then a gasp, as he opens his mouth further and slides his tongue over mine.

There is no better feeling in the entire universe than Jasper's tongue in my mouth.

Forget epic poetry. This is the kind of feeling that makes religions.

Our pace slows, settling into a burning, passionate, unhurried sort of making out, like we've got all night, and we might as well make the most of it. He shudders when my tongue stud scrapes the roof of his mouth, and I swallow the low moan that escapes from the back of his throat greedily.

I honestly don't think I've ever been so fucking hard in my life.

Desperate for more, I shove him backwards onto the pillow, hovering above him as his hands hook into the belt loops on my jeans and he pulls me closer. My dick is actually hurting from the arousal of this – Jasper's tongue is deep in my mouth, exploring hungrily, and I don't feel like I'm choking. I feel like I'm being devoured. Savored.

It's more intoxicating than any drug ever could be.

I moan against his mouth when his hand slides up the back of my shirt, his touch burning like a brand in a really fucking good way. I'd built this all up in my head for so long, now, but I'm ecstatic to report that I've not been underselling his performance in my fantasies.

On the contrary – I haven't been doing him any justice.

We're both panting for breath in the brief seconds that his lips leave mine, but neither of us stops. I don't think either of us wants to. I would happily die right now of oxygen deprivation, if it meant that Jasper would keep kissing me the way he is right now.

I never want this to end.

He shifts slightly, pulling me down flush onto his hard muscled torso, and I groan again when I feel his cock against the top of my thigh. He's fucking rock-hard. He's into this.

He's into _me_.

I pull back, only to move my lips to his neck. I'm breathing so heavily that it's almost embarrassing, but I'm too fucking horny to actually care all that much. My lips brush against the frantic pulse in Jasper's neck, and I can't resist a taste of his skin. I flick my tongue out against his jugular, grinding my hips down so that I can feel his erection against my aching cock.

"Fuck, Edward!" he pants. An exhilarated grin steals its way across my face.

"What was that, Jasper? Did you like that?"

I thrust into him again.

"Oh, God," Jasper whimpers, and it's the sexiest fucking sound on the planet.

_He likes this. Alice was right. He's not straight. Not completely, at least. _

His hands seize my hips, and he flips me onto my back in one strong, sure move. He's pressing into me, now, and his eyes are lidded and so dilated that they look black, not blue.

Holy fucking shit.

I grin. "You fucking want me, Hale. I fucking _knew_ it."

He practically growls back at me, "You fuckin' want me, too. You have ever since I spoke to you that day at school."

And then, he rocks upwards, so that now he's straddling me, his hands braced either side of my head on the pillow. Like he's got me pinned. I don't mind that, but I'm not going to let him have all the control. Not when I've been dreaming of touching him for so fucking long. I slide my hands up the back of his muscular thighs and grab his ass, which elicits a small yelp of surprise from him. Using him as leverage, my fingers bite into the denim of his jeans as I pull myself into a sitting position under him, so that his face is a couple of inches above mine and our chests are touching.

I can feel his pounding heart against my own.

Jasper locks his arms around my neck, gripping his own elbows, and I look up at him wonderingly as he leans his forehead down to rest against mine.

"Mmm…" I stroke my hands along his thighs, which makes him wriggle. This, in turn, causes my throbbing dick to brush against his, and I hiss at the glorious feeling of it, even through the layers separating us. "_Fuck_. This is turning into a strange night."

"Yeah," Jasper agrees, and his voice is raspy. My cock pulses so hard that it makes my legs tingle.

"You wanna know a secret?" I whisper.

"Okay." He whispers back.

"I've wanted you since before then."

He sucks in a surprised breath. "Since when, then?"

"Since you literally ran into me on those stairs at Lauren Mallory's house." Of course I had. He's the most perfect man in existence. And he's on _my_ lap. In _my_ arms.

_Fucking A!_

"In the kitchen that night…" Jasper murmurs. "When you cornered me…"

"You liked it." I finish his sentence for him, confident in what he's going to say, now.

"I… how did you know I was gonna say that?"

"Because your eyes dilated like fuck when I got all up in your face, and you could barely breathe." My lips brush against his when I next speak, and the feeling sends shivers of pleasure up and down my spine. "And I hoped… oh, I really fucking hoped that you might actually be interested. But then I got to know you, and I figured I'd read you wrong that first time."

"You didn't." He's playing with my hair, fingers twisting around the strands.

Holy fuck, Jasper Hale is playing with my hair!

"I get that, now." I lean in again, because I can't fucking resist, and I feel a thrill in my heart all over again when he kisses me back for a moment before I pull away.

"Hey, Jasper, why don't you have a girlfriend?" I murmur against his lips.

"You put Alice up to that, didn't you?" he accuses.

"No. She wondered about you all on her own." My lips brush along the rough stubble of his jaw, and he hums contentedly at the feeling. I'm fucking _flying_. "And you haven't answered my question."

"I've just been suckin' on your fuckin' tonsils, Edward, doesn't that answer your – ugh!" I thrust into him, and his hands grip my shoulders to keep his balance as he grunts in pleasure.

"Don't avoid the question. Answer it." _I made Jasper groan. Go me_.

He's quiet for a long moment, and the only sounds that fill the room are those of our labored breathing and pounding heartbeats.

Then, _oh, God_, then he tells me.

"You wanna know why I don't have a girlfriend, Edward?" His fingers slip into my hair, tugging on it now, and I can only nod in response, because my throat is closing over in need of both his answer and his touch. "Because, for the last few months, I've not been interested. I don't give a shit. Fuck girls. I don't want them. Any of them. All I can think about is _you_."

I crush my lips to his without waiting for any more, and his hands fist in my hair as I attack his mouth. I don't even care that my lip is all split, or that we're kissing hard enough for me to do some further damage to it.

I don't feel the lip.

All I feel is Jasper, warming my insides like sunshine with his words, and then heating me up to an inferno with every shift of his hips against mine, every graze of his teeth, every flick of his tongue.

I think he could probably make me come just from kissing me. It feels that fucking good.

I break the kiss, panting, and his eyes are so full of desire and ardor when I look at him that I feel like my heart is going to actually burst with happiness. I brush my nose against his in an Eskimo kiss, and trail my fingertips up his thighs again.

Jasper leans down and tenderly presses a chaste kiss to my injured lip, and I nearly melt into a puddle on the bedspread. When he allows a bit of distance between us again, I'm surprised that he doesn't notice the power of the emotions in my eyes.

Because my eyes are screaming; _I. Fucking. Love. You. _

Jasper gently pushes us both back down so that we're horizontal, and then slides off my hips, rolling to the side. His arms is still pressed against mine, and it's so fucking warm.

"Jazz?" I whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

He scrubs one hand down his face as I turn to look at him, and I catch a slightly bewildered but ultimately genuine smile as it graces his kiss-swollen lips. "Right now? I'm kinda freakin' out. But I'll be okay. Promise."

"Turn around," I murmur, and he clams up instantly, eyeing me warily.

"Why? What are you gonna do?"

I sigh. It's kind of funny that he's so skittish after he just attacked my face like that. "Chill out, cowboy, this isn't Brokeback Mountain."

Jasper chuckles. "Sorry."

"I think you should sleep. I think _I_ should sleep. We can talk about this in the morning. And…" I hear Jasper inhale as I pause. "I know this is a lot to process, and if I keep kissing you tonight then I'm not gonna be able to stop. I've been fantasizing about it for long enough, and when the reality is better even than the fantasy, it's kinda difficult to control myself."

He shivers. He fucking _shivers_.

_Hell yeah, Cullen_.

Jasper reaches over and pulls on the lamp cord to plunge us into darkness. I can feel his body heat beside me, and it's so tempting to just put my arm around him and pull him close. Fuck it – I do it anyway, and he jumps slightly before settling against me.

We're actually spooning. Yes!

"Jasper?" I mumble, already starting to feel sleepy.

"Yeah?"

"Happy New Year."

With my arm tucked around his waist, feeling his warmth, breathing him in, I let my eyes close and am instantly transported off into a blissful, exultant sleep.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**PJ**

**x**


	5. January

**A/N – Bonjourno mi amici!**

**Edward's turn for an update, and let's see what he makes of the morning after… **

**Thank you all so much for your reviews, means a LOT to me. **

**Oh, and Want You To Want Me by Cheap Trick was playing on repeat in my head while I wrote this. I kind of think it's Edward's theme song at this point, lol. **

**Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

_**Five**_

* * *

It feels like there's a tap-dancer in my head, and I've just swallowed a bag of sawdust.

That's the first thought that crosses my mind when I'm abruptly jerked into consciousness.

Then, the second thought is…

Jasper.

Holy shit, Jasper! Last night… that epic, life-altering kiss that was practically a religious experience. I smile to myself, thinking of the way his arms had locked around my neck, and the way his eyes burned into mine in the dim light when he told me that I was all he could think about.

It's too good to be true.

I reach out my arm, groping blindly for Jasper to pull him closer against me and nuzzle my face into his hair. My hand stretches out much further than it should be able to, and, confused, I open my eyes.

Jasper's side of the bed is empty.

What the fuck?

Oh, God! He freaked out in the middle of the night and took off! Shit, what am I gonna do?

He was drunk! What if he's dead in a ditch somewhere?

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I roll onto my back, and I groan and squeeze my eyes shut as the world seems to tilt around me. The hangover from Hell is making itself known to my equilibrium, now.

I seriously shouldn't have had all those… um… whatever I was drinking…

"Fuck, my _head_!" I lament. How the hell am I ever gonna go after Jasper when I can barely move without every one of my internal organs screaming in protest? I force my eyes open again, and the bright light is sharper than a poke in the eye with a needle.

"Motherfucker, that's bright!" I hiss, cringing away from the sunlight.

"I know."

Jasper!

That's his voice, I'm sure of it. I freeze, pushing myself upright on the bed. The room lurches again, like I'm on a boat instead of in some crappy motel. Ugh. I hope I'm not gonna puke.

Slowly, I turn my head in the direction of Jasper's voice. He's lying back on the other bed in the room, head resting on his folded forearms, one ankle crossed over the other. He looks the picture of ease. He sounds the picture of ease.

What the actual fuck? If I were Jasper right now, I'd be freaking out. But he looks like…

Like nothing happened.

Then it hits me.

Nothing happened.

It was just another one of my vivid, dirty fantasies about my best friend, made all the more real by my alcohol infused brain. I must've just passed out on the bed after we got back, and imagined the entire thing.

Because there's no way he'd be that casual if something had really gone down between us.

Fuck.

Bitter disappointment washes over me, making my heart contract sharply and my eyes sting with the threat of unshed tears. I'd thought I was so fucking close to having everything I've ever wanted.

I was wrong, as per fucking usual.

_Jesus, Edward, you really do live in some sort of rainbows and unicorns fantasy land. Wake up and remember what the book says – HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU. _

I swallow back my inner anguish along with the last of my saliva, and muster up a convincingly normal expression. "What the fuck was I drinking last night, man?" Now that I'm properly awake and out of la-la land, I immediately notice the shooting pain originating from my lip. My hand flies up to my mouth, and my fingertips brush the cut there. "Ow, my fucking _face_!"

I'd forgotten about the punch in the distraction of my apparent dream. My lip feels about three times its normal size when I run my fingers across it. Great, so now I'm delusional _and_ ugly.

"I think it was the tequila that did the most damage," Jasper says, his dark blue gaze studying me carefully. "But you were mixin' pretty heavy."

"Can't believe that asshole punched me for something that he – by the way – so clearly enjoyed," I mutter, more to myself than to Jasper. His jaw twitches slightly, and he opens his mouth.

"Edward, about last night…"

I don't even pause for breath, because talking is better than focusing on how shit I feel, in all senses.

"I mean, who does that? Fuck's sake! I hate Texas." Then I ask him a question that I really don't want a fucking answer to, but I need to know. "What about you, did you get lucky? One of us ought to have at least got some satisfaction."

Jasper gapes at me. "Don't you…?"

Crap. He probably told me all about it last night, before I fell asleep and dreamed of him professing his deep attraction for me. "Oh, shit. Did you tell me about it last night, already?"

Jasper looks at me like he's not sure whether he wants to laugh at my idiocy or strangle me.

I really hope he decides on the latter, and just puts me out of my misery, because my hangover headache is getting more brutal by the second.

"Shall we go and get breakfast or something?" I suggest, desperate for something to do that isn't dwelling on my hopeless lovesick thoughts or the state of my poor face. "It might sort my head out. Man… I kinda want a smoke, but I'm not sure if it'll make me vom or not. Should we call Alice?"

I vaguely remember that Alice hooked up with some girl last night. Not surprising. The girl could score in a convent.

"Um, I'll call her…" Jasper murmurs distractedly. "You go have a smoke, and I'll be out in a minute, 'kay?"

Damn him, why does he have to be so considerate, and nice, and perfect in every fucking way? Even hungover, he looks fucking gorgeous, with his hair all tousled and his eyes slightly narrowed and his lips a little bit swollen and chapped.

It should be illegal for someone to be so obnoxiously attractive.

Instead of falling at his feet and declaring my undying love for him, I opt for a shrug. I vault off the bed, only discovering mid-leap when my stomach slams into my spine that I'm too damn ill to move that quickly. As I land, I double over, fighting the urge to spew my guts up. "That was a bad fucking move, right there. Ugh. I may actually throw up." Oh, please, God, don't be cruel enough to let me throw up in front of Jasper… I swallow heavily, and am relieved to realize that I've got it under control. "No, wait, I'm good."

I let myself out of the room, extracting my packet of smokes from my back pocket as I go. They've gotten kind of crushed from me lying on them in the night. I pull out one cigarette and attempt to mold it back into the right shape as I lean against the veranda and spark up.

The first hit of nicotine is a relief, but the taste is foul in my dry, stale mouth. My stomach pitches, but I power through it. After a couple of drags, I feel slightly better.

I hope Alice had a better night than I did. My evening – and morning – has just been a series of disappointments, one following right on from the next. It's stupid that I allowed myself to actually believe that Jasper might return my feelings romantically. Stupid and dangerous.

Of course he doesn't.

No amount of wishing it is going to suddenly turn Jasper gay, so there's no point in even wasting energy on it. I can be content with loving him hopelessly from afar, and at least I can console myself with the fact that, in a parallel world, if Jasper actually was gay, he'd totally like me back. He'd have to, right? I mean, we're best friends, and we get each other, and we'd be great together.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'd be his first call if he ever decided to bat for the other team.

_Which he won't_, I remind myself sternly.

I'm just finishing off my cigarette when Jasper appears from the room. In the harsh light of day, he looks paler than usual, and his beautiful eyes are rimmed red and bloodshot. It makes me feel slightly better knowing that he can look a little on the rough side, too.

"I called Alice," he says, his voice a hoarse croak. His hangover must've kicked in full force while I've been standing out here, because he seems a lot worse than he was back in the motel room. "We should head out to meet her. I told her we'd see her at that diner a block over."

"Okay," I agree immediately, flicking the butt of my cigarette out across the parking lot. That sort of behavior usually earns me a disapproving look from Jazz, but he doesn't even seem to notice.

Instead, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and starts to walk off, head down. He doesn't even glance back to make sure that I'm following.

* * *

"Is Jasper coming?" Alice asks, her breath misting slightly in front of her as we wait for our movie tickets outside the sorry excuse for a theater this town can come up with. She rubs her fingers together for warmth. The winter is incredibly mild, compared to what I'm used to, but even I can admit that it's chilly this morning.

"I called him, but he didn't answer," I tell my cousin, trying and failing to keep the dejected note out of my voice. My feigned nonchalance doesn't fool Alice for a second, and she narrows her dark eyes at me suspiciously.

"Are you two having a fight or something?"

"No," I respond instantly. After a few more seconds of her scrutiny, my shoulders sag in defeat. "At least, I don't think so. I don't know what's going on with him. He's been avoiding me for nearly two weeks. It _feels_ like he's avoiding me, anyway."

I'm starting to worry that I might've drunkenly said something out of line to him over New Years, or maybe… maybe something inappropriate that means he's now uncomfortable around me. Dear God, I hope not.

"And you haven't asked him why?" Alice demands, tilting her head to one side.

"Well, no. It's kind of hard to ask someone what's wrong with them when they won't pick up the phone."

"Wow, Teddy," Alice reaches over to accept the two tickets that the girl in the booth is now holding out for us. She murmurs a quick 'thanks' in the girl's direction, and then turns back to me. "I never thought you were such a quitter."

"I'm not," I object, stung by her implication. "But I don't even know what I've done wrong. He hasn't told me anything, he's just been really distant and confusing."

"I'll call him, if you want." She's already got her cell phone in her hand before she even finishes her sentence, and I reach over to close my hand around hers and tug it back down to her side. There's nothing more embarrassing than your cousin calling the guy you like – the guy who's meant to be your best friend – and demanding to know if he's ignoring you, and if so, what his reasoning is.

Especially not if she does it in front of me.

"You don't need to. I'm sure it's nothing, really," I say, but, of course, I'm not sure of anything of the sort.

"I tell you what… I'll make you a deal. You go over to Jasper's after we watch this film, and I won't call him and ask him what his problem is. Sound good to you?"

I nod, though the thought of seeing Jasper when he may or may not be mad at me is twisting my insides into apprehensive knots. "Okay, deal."

"Fine. It's my second-to-last night this side of the pond, so let's go and watch animated super-villains behave despicably, shall we?"

I grin at her. Alice always has this knack for making me forget about the things that are stressing me out. "Alright. You're buying the popcorn, though."

* * *

After the movie – which, incidentally, was actually pretty funny – I drop Alice off back at my house and gear myself up on the drive over to Jasper's. I give myself one of those cheesy little internal pep-talks, and it's only when I see the guy in the car I've pulled up next to at the lights looking at me funny that I realize I've been speaking out loud.

Great. Now I look like the schizo who talks to himself.

I pull up outside Jasper's house, glancing over at the red painted door half obscured by the screened porch. Taking my keys out of the ignition, I just sit in the Volvo for a moment, eyes closed and head tipped back on the headrest. I really hope he lets me talk to him. I really, really hope that this might all just be some overreaction on my part, and there's actually nothing wrong at all.

I don't think that's true, though.

_Please, God, don't let me lose my best friend… _I pray to a deity that I'm not even sure I believe in. I desperately just want Jasper back. _My_ Jasper. The one who smiles with his eyes and laughs with his soul and always, always answers the phone on the second ring.

I get out of the car with a heavy heart and break into a jog as I make my way along his front path and up the steps. My thumb stabs into the doorbell before I can back out.

I hear a scuffling sound from inside, and the next second, the door is flung open. I'm greeted by Kate, her pretty face breaking out into a wide, infectious smile as soon as she clocks me.

"Hey, there, hot stuff," she teases, indigo-blue eyes sparkling. Of all Jasper's sisters, Kate looks the most like him. The resemblance is strong in them all – the Hales have some pretty powerful genes – but Kate's face is literally a daintier version of Jasper's. Or, maybe his is a more masculine version of hers, considering that she's older. They have identical eyes, whereas Rosalie and Tanya's are lighter. They even flash the same slightly pointed canines when they smile, the left one a little crooked.

"Hey, Katie," I say warmly. "Is Jasper in?"

"What's it worth to ya?" She leans against the door jam, shaking her long, pale gold hair back from her face. The teasing light in her eyes never wavers as she regards me – she obviously doesn't pick up on the fact that I'm feeling more than a little bit uncomfortable at the moment.

"Um, my undying gratitude?" I say sheepishly.

"Dramatic, but I'll take it," she laughs, stepping back to allow me entry. "He's in, he's just…"

Lillian, Jasper's mom, appears in the kitchen doorway as I cross over the threshold, and her face splits into a wide, affectionate grin.

"Oh, Edward, darlin', we thought you'd gone and crawled in a hole or somethin'! Where you been hidin'?"

I smile back at her, feeling marginally more at ease. If Jasper is really mad at me, surely he would've told his mom? Her enthusiastic reaction to my presence sort of confirms that she doesn't suspect that anything is afoot. "My cousin's down at the moment, Mrs. H. She's commandeering a lot of my time before she goes back to England."

"Ah, yeah, Alice, isn't it? Nice girl. Jasper sure likes her."

Of course he does. She's female, and beautiful, and tiny, and everything I can never be, no matter how badly I want Jasper to want me. "Yeah, I'll bet."

Lillian jerks her head in the direction of the staircase. "Jasper's in his room, hon. Go on up."

Sucking in a deep breath, I take Jasper's stairs almost at a run, my footsteps ringing out loudly to announce my presence. I reach his door, and pause with one hand on it.

_Here goes nothing. _I push it open.

He's reclined on his bed, arms folded behind his blond curls, wearing nothing but some loose-hanging navy sweats and a black t-shirt. God, he looks amazing. My heart stutters nervously in my chest.

His deep blue eyes watch me warily for a second, before he perks up with a convincingly genuine smile.

"Hey, man. What's up?" His voice sounds warm. Normal. I exhale in relief.

I make my way casually over to his bed and shove his feet over a bit so that I can sit down. He shuffles up the pillows slightly to give me some more room.

When I study him closely, I notice that his face looks a little gaunt, like he hasn't been eating properly. There're dark circles under his eyes, too, and I'd be willing to bet good money that he hasn't had a decent night's sleep in a while.

The thought fills me with concern.

What the hell is wrong with him?

"You look skinny, Jazz, have you been sick?"

"No," he replies softly.

"You sure?" He nods. I try a different approach. "Then have you not been eating or something?"

His golden brow wrinkles as he considers my second question. "I guess not."

"What's the matter with you, Jazz?" I'm desperate for him to let me in. There's something strangely guarded about the way he's looking at me, and it scares me. I lean in slightly, and although he holds his languid position, something inexplicable tenses within him. "Why are you acting so strange, lately? You've barely set foot in my house for a fortnight, and Alice is leaving tomorrow, so you'd better come over tonight for her goodbye dinner, or she'll eat you alive."

Jasper looks at me for the longest moment, and for the first time ever, I have no idea what's going on behind those crystal blues of his. "Oh… er… I'm okay. Really. And sure, I'll be there tonight."

"Cool. So, I'm going into town to pick up some groceries. Wanna come and keep me company?" I offer. I know that, if he accepts, then we'll be okay.

He doesn't though. "I can't. I'm meetin' a friend."

I try and fail to keep the disappointment from showing on my face. "Oh. Um, okay. Jazz… are you sure there's nothing wrong? I just feel like you're avoiding me, lately."

"I'm not," he says quickly. "I promise. I really do have to meet a friend."

"Okay…" I'm not convinced, but he's clearly not going to tell me what it is that's really bothering him, so I don't have much of a choice but to give up with my questioning and cajoling. I'm no fucking Nancy Drew, that's for damn sure. "Then I guess I'll see you tonight?"

"What time?"

"Seven."

He half-smiles at me. "I'll be there."

Taking his words as a dismissal, I stand. I feel awkward, and I think that's pretty much a first around Jasper. No, wait, I've felt awkward before – that time he overheard me telling my mom I had a crush on him – I say 'had' because it's so, so much more than a crush now – but back then, Jazz hadn't let me stay awkward for long.

He didn't seem in any rush to rectify my awkwardness this time around.

I make my way over to his door and let myself out without glancing back and betraying the needy, desperate emotions written all over my face. I don't know what's broken between us, but I'd give my eye teeth to fix it, whatever it is.

Once I'm back downstairs, I find Kate waiting for me. She pounces as soon as my foot hits the last step.

"What's goin' on with you and my brother, Edward?" she demands.

"Nothing," I answer, a knee-jerk response.

"Bullshit. Are you havin' a fight or somethin'? I know you ain't been round here in a while, and Jasper's been all depressed…" She eyes me shrewdly. "Lover's tiff?"

"Ha ha," I deadpan, though my heart picks up tempo. "You're a real joker, Katie."

"Who says I'm kiddin'?" she replies, with an enigmatic smile that instantly makes me feel exposed. I sort of want to cross my arms over my chest and cringe away from that look.

"You're either kidding, or you've gone mad."

Kate tilts her head, long blonde hair draping over one of her slender shoulders. "We're all a little mad, Edward. Believe me, sometimes it's best if you just roll with the crazy."

And, with that sage and slightly random piece of advice, she blows me a kiss, turns on one heel, and sashays back into the living room. I'm on my way out the door when I hear Rosalie's voice.

"Give it, Tanya! Mama! Tanya's hoggin' the remote!"

"Project Runway is on! Mama, tell her I've been wantin' to watch this all week!" Tanya yells.

"Jeez, you two, will ya shut up? I'm tryin' to read over here!" That's Kate.

"What're you readin'… hey, wait, is that _my_ copy of Cosmo?"

I decide to make myself scarce before world-war-bitch breaks out in the Hale household. As I get into my car, I'm momentarily distracted from my morose Jasper thoughts by one thing.

_I'm so glad that my sister's only six._

* * *

There's a knock at the door, just as I'm scrambling around trying to put my watch back onto my wrist. Ever tried to do up a watch one-handed? It's harder than it looks.

"Teddy, will you get that?" Mom hollers through to me from the backyard as I make my way down the staircase. Sighing, I make my way to the door and glance through the peephole. Nervous energy immediately crackles in my veins.

Jasper.

I open the door, and refocus my efforts on my watch in an attempt to avoid looking into his eyes. I really can't stand to see more guarded awkwardness coming from him.

"Hey," I say. I fumble the clasp on my watch for the fifth time, though I think it has more to do with Jasper's presence than the difficulty of the task, this time. "Everyone's out on the deck…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Edward, c'mere," Jasper sighs, and his hands close around my wrist, knocking mine away. I feel a spark, like electricity, as it pings its way from the brush of his skin on mine straight up my arm and into my heart. I risk it, and look up, watching him as he frowns intently down at my watch strap. He's wearing a button-down shirt and dark jeans that hug his body a little more snugly than his usual pairs and he looks… incredible. "There."

His eyes flash up to meet mine as he succeeds in doing up the clasp, and I gulp. There's none of the earlier wariness, only the same warmth I know and love. The blue depths of his gaze glitters with something else, though, something I can't quite put my finger on. It's not a bad thing, whatever it is.

"Nice shirt," I mumble, my mouth a little dry.

Jasper smirks, a crooked twist of his lips that makes my dick twitch. "Back at'cha, Cullen. You look pretty hot."

He winks.

He fucking _winks_.

My legs nearly buckle. Is he… was that… is he _flirting_ with me?

No, surely not… right?

I'm blushing. Big time.

Salvation unexpectedly comes in the form of my mother poking her head around the door. As soon as she spots Jasper, her face breaks out into a wide, enthusiastic smile. "Jasper!" She greets him like he's come bearing tomorrow's lottery numbers or something. "Come on in! We've missed you around here."

Jasper steps past me and brushes my shoulder with his. My skin suddenly feels very, very warm, even through my shirt. Holy crap, I didn't think my visceral reactions to him could get any stronger.

Apparently, I was wrong. When am I not?

He pauses in the living room doorway and calls back to me.

"You comin', Ed?"

I jump, feeling completely ridiculous. "Uh, yeah. Sorry, man, I guess I spaced out."

"No shit." He's smirking that delicious smirk again. Why does the air feel suddenly… charged, somehow?

_It's all in my head. It's all in my head_, I chant.

I shut the door and cross the foyer to follow Jasper out. He's waiting for me to move first, so I seize the opportunity to give him a shove into the doorframe. Not hard, or anything.

"Ow!" he complains. "The fuck was that for?"

"Being a sarcastic bastard," I say, smiling sweetly. "And also, ignoring me for the last two weeks for no reason."

"Yeah, I'm real sorry about that," He looks it. "It ain't your fault, at all. I just had some… family shit that was gettin' me down."

Oh, well, now I feel like an ass. I lean slightly closer. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Nah, it's all okay now. Drama over. Turns out it was just a whole bunch of misunderstandings. But I really am sorry for shuttin' you out, honest." His eyes are so sincere, and I feel suddenly stupid for ever thinking that anything could get in the way of our friendship. We're unbreakable, Jazz and me. I should have a bit more faith.

"That's okay," I say, half-shrugging at him. "It happens sometimes."

I lead Jasper out onto the deck, where Dad gives him almost as warm a reception as Mom did, shaking his hand and clapping him on the shoulder in a fatherly sort of way. I don't even think my dad can help being fatherly. It's in his nature.

Alice and Maggie are still engaged in their game of swing ball that they've been playing for the past couple of hours, so she and Jasper just yell their greetings to each other. He and I take seats at the far end of the outside table, as far out of earshot of my parents as is humanly feasible.

I can feel Jasper's eyes trained on me as I watch Maggie hit the ball to Alice with impressive force. She ducks, laughing, and does a funny little pirouette on the grass before returning the hit back to my little sister with an effortless flick of her wrist.

Jasper's eyes are still burning a hole in my head, and there's something about his intense scrutiny that is making me feel hot all over again. I'm in dire need of a cold shower, because I can feel myself getting harder and harder the longer he's got his eyes on me.

I flick my tongue out to catch the ball bearing between my teeth, and start chewing on my tongue ring distractedly while I try and conjure up images that will deflate my semi. It's really, really difficult to do when all I can focus on is Jasper watching me.

"Stop fucking doing that," Jasper orders, his voice a low, husky growl. I jump, my head snapping towards him, and my eyes widen when I see that his nostrils are flaring and his eyes are a hell of a lot darker than they were a minute ago.

I think he's meant to be looking intimidating, but I practically jizz in my pants at the feral expression on his face.

"Sorry," I say hastily, when I realize he's annoyed about me biting my tongue bar, "I don't even notice I'm doing it."

"Well, _I_ do," he says emphatically, "So don't do it."

Bossy, domineering Jasper is… well, fuck me. And I really mean that. Fuck me. Hard. Please God, Jasper, fuck me.

He looks away after what feels like an age, and clears his throat, "So, is Alice all packed?"

"Yeah," I murmur, embarrassed to hear how incredibly turned on I sound. Shit, I can't believe he can have this sort of effect on me from a mere _look_. "She leaves at, like, three in the morning."

"Sucks to be her," Jasper huffs. "I hate catching nighttime flights."

This nugget of information has me momentarily diverted from admiring the strong line of his jaw and wishing I could lean over and suck on it… and other things. "I thought you'd never been outside the US?"

"I haven't. I go and visit my aunt in Jacksonville sometimes. It's quicker to fly."

"Jazz?" I decide that I might as well ask him what I've been trying to work up the nerve to ask him since October, practically. Mom said I could bring a friend back home with me to New York when we go back for the wedding, and I want to bring Jasper so badly that it's actually killing me. "Speaking of travelling, I was gonna ask you, and, I mean, you don't have to, but would you maybe want to come to New York with me over spring break?"

Jasper blinks.

His lips part slightly.

I hold my breath.

"Yes!" he practically yells, and I grin. My parents look up at his exuberant cry, and he drops his gaze, scratching the back of his head in apparent embarrassment over his own enthusiasm. "Um, I mean, that would be really cool. I'd love to."

I can't stop smiling. I'd been worried that he would say no, and instead, I end up with the best reaction I could ever have hoped for. "I've literally never seen you so excited in the four months I've known you."

"Yeah, well… you know I've always wanted to go to New York."

"That's why I want to take you."

Jasper looks at me with this expression of utter joy. It's almost like he wants to kiss me or something.

_Oh, God, please kiss me!_

* * *

When Alice's dinner is fully underway, and everyone is just chatting and laughing – except Mags, who is facedown in her spaghetti, snoring her little head off (bless her cottons) – Alice leans over the table and looks Jasper in the eye. There's an excited gleam in their dark brown depths that makes me a little wary.

"Jasper, I've been thinking, and… do you wanna come to London for a couple of weeks over summer when Edward comes?"

Now Jasper is looking at Alice with that same I-could-kiss-you expression he was giving me earlier. Even though I know they have a platonic friendship, I can't help the surge of jealousy that shoots through me.

I want to be the only person in the world who makes him look like that.

"I honestly can't think of anything I'd rather do more," Jasper declares. I shoot him a wry smile.

"Well, I suppose that offer suddenly makes New York look pretty lame, huh?"

Jasper gives my ribs a playful nudge with his elbow, and my skin tingles at his touch through the thin material of my sweater. "Nah, not at all. You know how I feel about New York."

Our eyes meet, and we launch into a 'conversation' without meaning to.

_You really want to come to New York? _I'm saying.

And he's replying, _Of course I do. I've been dreamin' about New York forever. _

_So, who has the better offer? _I don't say, and I'm smirking at him, like his answer doesn't mean anything to me. Like it's all a joke. It's anything but a joke. My throat's dry.

_You do. _I could drown in Jasper's eyes, right now. _Always. _

My breath catches, and I have to look away, because if I don't, I'm afraid that I might actually pass out. Either that, or I might just throw myself at him.

Alice is watching us both with an unfathomable grin.

I hope she can't interpret our silent conversations. They're private.

When dinner is over, I wait to one side as Jasper says goodbye to Alice. He stoops to give her a hug, wrapping his muscly arms around her tiny waist carefully, like she's made of glass.

"Take care of yourself, Tinkerbelle," he murmurs. "See you soon?"

I don't hear her response, but whatever it is causes Jasper to chuckle slightly as he straightens up and ruffles her hair. She pokes her tongue out at him, and he laughs harder.

I walk Jasper to the front door, hoping to get a cheeky smoke in on the sly. It's the perfect excuse for my mother not to come out and catch me. When he steps over the threshold, so do I, lighting up.

"You should really quit," Jasper says seriously, as we settle ourselves side by side on the porch swing.

"Mmm. That's better." I ignore his advice, instead focusing on blowing out a long stream of smoke into the chilly night air. "You looking forward to school again tomorrow?"

Jasper looks at me like I've just expressed a desire to dance as a Vegas showgirl or something. "Uh, no?"

I laugh. "Why not? You're in a lot of my classes this semester." I aim a gentle kick at his ankle. "Means we can hang out in class as well as out of it."

"You say 'hang out' like we're gonna goof off. I know you, Edward, and you're gonna be a total fuckin' slave driver in the classes we're in together."

I grin, his words conjuring up all sorts of dirty images in my head that I can use later when I lock my bedroom door and flip the lights out. "I just want you to reach your full potential, that's all." I lean forward, staring seriously into his eyes, and my heart rate picks up at our proximity. "Because you, Jasper Hale, are capable of greatness."

"You really think that?" He sounds touched by my faith in him. My smile widens, transforms into something a bit more tender and sincere.

"Yeah, I do. Some are born great," I point at my own face, which causes Jasper to laugh. "Some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. In your case, you're gonna have all three, but I'm doing the thrusting, just in case."

_Bad word choice there, Edward_, I think, cringing at my unintentional innuendo. Of course, the literal imaginings of that are definitely more images for the wank bank.

"That was an unfortunate choice of words, right there," I say, chuckling awkwardly. "But you know what I mean."

He nods. Of course he knows what I mean. He understands me better than I do, sometimes.

Our eyes collide, and I suddenly feel as though I can't breathe.

I'm falling into his gaze like Alice into Wonderland, headfirst and flailing and completely and utterly at the mercy of forces I don't have a hope of controlling.

I'm so affected by him that it scares me.

But it's only scary because it feels so permanent.

Jasper Hale has left an indelible mark on my heart, and even though he doesn't feel the same way about me as I do about him, my brain clings to one simple truth.

I am completely, irrevocably in love with him.

* * *

**Sigh. If you've read NYILY, I bet you kinda want to clunk these silly boys' heads together right now and scream WAKE UP, MORONS! I know I do. **

**All in good time, though. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**PJ**

**x**


	6. February

**A/N – I know, I know, I haven't updated in ages! I'm terrible. **

**In all honesty, I've been feeling really neglectful of my boys, and writing this chapter was really hard for me after a few days away from them. **

**I hope it's worth it!**

* * *

_**Six**_

_**February**_

* * *

"Montana?" I ask, leaning back on my bed with my cell phone pressed to my ear. Seth sighs in a despairing way on the other end of the line.

"Fucking Montana, Edward. And you think moving to Texas was bad."

I bite back a laugh and an eye roll all at the same time. "Seth, I actually live in Texas. You're just going on holiday for two weeks. Not the same thing."

"Do you know what the main thing to do for entertainment in Montana is?" he challenges.

I glance at my clock. 8.50pm. He's been bitching for a solid hour, now. "No, actually, I don't. Is it like, ice fishing, or something?"

"No!" Seth explodes. "It's _nothing_! And, I do mean nothing! I'm going to die of boredom! Mom wanted to go and feel the cool air on her face! That's actually how she tried to sell it to me. I told her to go stand at the top of the Empire State Building for a couple of hours, and it would have pretty much the same effect."

I laugh for real this time. "And what did she say to that?"

"She told me to shut up."

"Could've seen that coming."

"It's not funny, Edward."

"On the contrary, I find it highly amusing."

"You really get off on all this schadenfreude shit, don't you?"

"Well, yeah." I say, tracing the stitching of my pillowcase with one finger. "It distracts from my own misery."

"Hey, I thought you have the oh-so-wonderful Jasper to distract you from your misery?" Seth teases.

I sigh. "Au contraire, mon amie. Jasper is the main reason for all of my angsty inner turmoil, these days."

"Still in love with him?"

"Yup."

"Still doesn't know how you feel?"

"Uh-huh."

"Still want to blow your brains out every time you look at him?"

"Bingo."

Seth snickers. "On second thoughts, Montana doesn't sound so bad, comparatively."

"You're an asshole, Clearwater," I grumble.

"Schadenfreude, baby."

I can't decide whether I want to laugh or hit something. Having conversations like this with Seth usually leaves me feeling this way. "You have no idea what it's like."

"That's true. I don't tend to crush on straight guys."

"Hey! I don't tend to crush on straight guys! This is an isolated incident," I protest.

"Kind of a major one, though, isn't it?" Seth replies sanguinely, and I swear, if he was right in front of me right now, I would throttle him. "Look, Eddie, you want my advice?"

"Seldom if ever," I answer, and I hear him huff down the phone.

"Dick. I'm genuinely offering you a bit of the Clearwater wisdom here."

"Alright," I relent, pushing myself into a sitting position and resting my head against the headboard. "I'm listening."

"Find out if you can make him jealous. If he gets jealous, then there's hope."

"I've already told you, there's no hope."

"And I'm telling you, the way you two interact is a little more intense than normal straight-guy-to-gay-guy friendship. He might be a bit more flexible than you're giving him credit for."

"I think you've got a screw loose."

"I think you ought to try it out, quit your whining, and see what happens. If it works, you might actually get a screw. If not, then… well, no harm, no foul, right?"

I hate to admit it, but sometimes, Seth actually makes a little bit of sense. "Well… I dunno. I'll think about it."

"There's a good Teddy," he croons, and I groan.

"Bite me."

"Don't tempt me. Hey, Edward, was that your subtle way of asking for phone sex? You must be hard up in prude town." He's blatantly bullshitting me now just for kicks. I grind my teeth.

"Fuck you, Seth," I chuckle.

"Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty," he banters in a sing-song voice. "C'mon, Eddie, what're you wearing? I'm just dying to know…"

"Shut up."

I can almost feel his silent laughter through the phone. "Are you saying this isn't gonna happen? Aw, shame."

"You're such an ass."

"So, I should get my hand off my dick, then?" he asks in a faux-innocent voice.

"Goodnight, Seth."

He breaks, and lets out a loud snicker. "It's just too easy sometimes. Night, Edward. Love you lots like jell-o shots."

"Yeah, yeah. You, too."

He hangs up, and I toss my phone onto my comforter, folding my arms behind my head and staring up at the ceiling for a few moments.

Did Seth have a point? Are Jasper and I unusually close for 'just friends'? I don't know. I've never really had a straight best friend before. What's too close, anyway?

A soft knock on my bedroom door startles me from my thoughts.

"It's open," I call.

A moment later, my dad pokes his head around the door. "Hey, son."

"Hey," I pull myself a little further up the bed.

"Can I come in?"

"_Mi casa es su casa_," I say, gesturing with an open palm.

Dad quirks his head at me, a slight smile on his face. "What's with the Spanish?"

"Jasper," I reply. "He breaks out the Spanish at random moments. You can't help but pick it up."

"He speaks Spanish?" Dad crosses the room to sit down on the edge of my mattress.

"Fluently." _As if he wasn't already swoon-worthy enough_. I think Dad can read my thoughts on my face, because he gives me a knowing smile and starts to straighten out my already neat bed sheets.

"I wanted to know how you'd feel about babysitting on Valentine's day," he asks.

"Well, seeing as my romantic prospects are exactly none, I'm okay with it." I fold my arms across my chest. "I'll watch Maggie, you take Mom out for a night on the town."

Dad grins. "You're a good boy, Edward."

"I'm the best," I agree. "But can you do me a favor?"

"Yes?"

"Get a hotel room wherever you go with Mom. Please. This place has thin walls."

His gray eyes slide swiftly to the side, and if I didn't know him any better, I would swear my dad is blushing. "Uh, sure. That seems fair."

"It's appreciated. Greatly."

"So, what's Jasper doing for Valentine's?" Dad says, in a way that is far too casual to not contain any hidden subtext. I eye him suspiciously.

"I don't know, Dad. I haven't asked."

"Don't you think you should?"

"Why? He's not my boyfriend." More's the pity. Plus, if I asked him, he might actually tell me about plans with a girl, and then I'd have to go and drown myself in the shower listening to a Coldplay album on repeat. Not a great way to go.

"I know, but… you boys are friends. Don't you discuss things like affairs of the heart?"

I roll my eyes. "Seriously, Dad, sound older."

He laughs. "You know what I mean, Teddy."

"Um…" I scrunch up my nose, trying to remember the last time Jasper and I actually spoke about girls he likes. I really can't remember anything before Christmas, and even then, it was a fleeting comment at the most. "I guess we don't, really. Huh."

"Okay." Dad shrugs, and then picks himself up off my bed. "I'm going to finish off some case notes, but thanks for saying you'll watch your sister."

"Anytime."

He makes it as far as the door before turning back to me. "Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you should ask Jasper to keep you company? You know, if he's not got plans on Saturday?"

"Yeah," I shrug. "Maybe."

* * *

"No, you're totally wrong!" Rosalie declares, pointing her fork at me sternly. We're sitting in the cafeteria, and she's been arguing with Bella for the past ten minutes on what constitutes 'enough of an effort' that means Emmett deserves sex on Valentine's day. I'm just listening to the pair of them, entertained.

"Well, last year, Mike wrote me a poem," she says, blushing as always.

"That's kind of sweet," I interject.

She gives me a disparaging look. "You didn't hear the poem. That boy is all kindsa talented on the football pitch, but he ain't no Dylan Thomas, that's for sure."

Rose and I both laugh. "Can you remember the poem?"

"It don't bear repeatin', Edward, trust me."

Rose cackles even harder. "Mike Newton ain't really a born romantic, eh, Bells?"

"Oh, and Emmett is?" she challenges. "What did he get for you last year again?"

Rosalie grins. "A coupon for two hours of the good lovin'."

I crack up. "Wow. And my ex didn't even get any when he took me for dinner on his dad's yacht on the Hudson."

Bella and Rosalie gape at me in wonder. Rose breaks the silence first. "Wait, serious?"

"Yeah. He was a smooth motherfucker, when he wanted to be. You know, before he became a total possessive asshat and tried to forbid me from seeing any of my friends."

"Well, Mike don't have a fancy yacht or nothin', but he ain't ever pulled anythin' like that," Bella declares, as though this somehow means she wins. Sadly, I'd be inclined to agree with her. I don't need to be wined and dined. I just want a little goddamn respect and trust.

Just then, all the hairs on the back of my neck seem to stand up in unison. I don't even need to look around to know that this means that Jasper has joined the party. He doesn't usually come and sit with us at lunch – he has to show some face time with his teammates. It's pathetic, but I miss him, even in lunch hour.

He drops into the chair beside me. Or, should I say, practically on top of me. The entire length of his thigh is pressed right up against mine, and I'm grateful for the table to disguise the fact that I've just popped wood from even this small amount of contact. No guy in the history of the universe has ever had this much of an effect on me. It feels like there's an electric charge emanating from him and into me.

"Hey," Jasper says, and the girls answer. I can't talk, because my mouth is too dry right now, so I turn and flash him a smile instead. His answering grin helps me find my voice.

"Hey, Hale Senior. Junior here was just telling me about the Valentine's date she has planned with your linebacker BFF."

Rosalie shoots me a glare, which I pointedly ignore. Jasper's indigo eyes light up.

"Oh, really?" He leans forward across the table to get up in Rosalie's face, and in doing so, his foot slides backwards and over the top of mine so that our legs are intertwined. It must be a total accident, but every little part of me stiffens as I nearly jump right out of my skin. With supreme effort, I regain control. Jasper doesn't even seem to have noticed.

"Yeah," I say, in answer to his question, but my voice sounds a little hoarse. I pray he doesn't notice.

"Well, come on then, Rosie, spill the beans. What has boyfriend got in store? You should know that I'm gonna get you a chastity belt to wear before he picks you up on Saturday."

I laugh, because I really wouldn't put that past him. Jasper has that whole 'protective-big-brother' thing down to a fine art. His grin widens at my amusement.

Rosalie is now alternating her glares between the two of us. "You both suck," she mutters.

I grin at Jasper. He grins back.

My heart thumps incessantly in my chest, too fucking fast to be any good for me.

* * *

Jasper and I headed back to mine after school, and we're currently reclined on my bed.

He's lying the opposite way to me, feet stuffed under the pillow beside my head, legs bent at the knee. The picture of ease. He clearly can't hear my frantic heartbeat whenever he's in this close proximity to me.

"Do you think you're gonna get in?" I ask, breaking the silence that has been comfortably settled over us for about half an hour. I love that we can just laze around without having to make any effort to converse. It's unnecessary. We just lounge about for hours without needing to speak a word.

I don't do stuff like that with anyone else. If there's a silence, I tend to fill it. I can't help it – I usually get all antsy when nobody says anything for a while. Jasper doesn't make me feel that way. He makes me feel calm.

Okay, well, maybe not calm. Blissed out is probably more accurate.

I really wish we could just spend Valentine's day like this. And then, you know, every other day for the rest of my life. I'd die a happy man.

I realize he hasn't actually answered my question, and I wonder if he's drifted off to sleep or something.

"Jazz, did you hear me?" I check.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you think you're gonna get in."

"To Columbia?" he murmurs.

"Yeah."

"Um… I dunno. I hope so. If I don't, it's cuz I'm not smart enough, and there's nothin' I coulda done different, because you made sure I was damn well prepared."

How can he not freak himself out about these things? I live in a near constant state of panic about college, whenever I let myself dwell on it. Not that I let it show. "Yeah, well… I believe in you. I think they'll be crazy to turn you down."

Jasper's breath catches slightly at my words.

Suddenly, he reaches over and catches my hand, interlacing our fingers. I freeze, surprised and confused by the contact. Then he uses my hand as a lever to pull himself upright, and I curse myself for being so stupid as to think he might actually want to hold my hand.

But he hasn't let go.

I measure his expression for a moment, and he looks uncharacteristically intense. Slowly, I pull myself up until I'm sitting, too, and the position we've been lying in means that we're now facing each other, and my right shoulder is parallel to his left one.

"Edward…" Jasper whispers, and there's something in his voice, some barely detectable note that makes me afraid to even draw a breath.

"Yeah?" I choke out.

Jasper opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He shakes his head slightly, and repeats the struggle for words. I watch him intently as he shifts his position so that he's closer to me, his hip resting against my thigh. My breathing is coming in very short almost-pants, now, and I'm electrically aware of it. Though not as aware as I am of his proximity to me.

His eyes burn into mine.

He still hasn't let go of my hand.

"Edward…" Jasper leans forward, bracing one hand on the mattress behind me. Our faces are a couple of inches apart, now. Within kissing distance. I've never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in my life. I feel like I'm trying to crawl out of my own skin with the force of my desire. The hand holding his is trembling.

Or is it Jasper's hand that's shaking?

"Yeah, Jasper?" I breathe.

He squeezes my hand, hard enough to be deliberate. I can't breathe. My eyes flicker down to our interlocked fingers – his golden skin matched up with my creamy complexion. It feels right.

When I look up, Jasper seems even closer than before. His eyes are darkest blue, so dark that I almost can't see his pupils.

"I…" he falters, before exhaling shakily.

I'm terrified. Elated. Confused beyond all measure.

Is this really happening, or have I finally gone insane from sexual repression?

I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows, hard. If my eyes dilate any more, I don't think I'll even have irises. Every nerve in my body is screaming for me to close the distance between us.

Then a loud knock on my door shatters the spell, and Jasper wrenches himself away from me like there's a force field between us. I slide backwards automatically, though my heart is still hammering and my head is still spinning.

"Come in!" I call, but I can't take my eyes off Jasper. He looks flushed, and flustered, and so fucking gorgeous that I actually want to melt into a puddle of wretched, neverending desire.

The door opens.

"Edward _fucking_ Cullen."

No. Fucking. Way.

I know that voice. Jesus H. Christ, I know that voice!

My eyes swivel in the direction of the doorway, and they collide with a pair that are darkest brown, so brown that they're almost black. I blink to make sure that I'm not hallucinating again.

Russet skin. Messy black hair. Band t-shirt. Snug jeans. Shit-eating grin.

"SETH!" I holler, jumping to my feet in one frenzied movement. Seth throws himself at me, practically tackling me back down onto the bed, and wraps me in a bear hug so strong that I'm actually worried he might break my spine if he squeezes any harder. I don't care, though, because I'm emotionally fraught, and distressed, and dazed, and confused, and my best friend has finally come to make sense of my fucked up life in the flesh.

I need him to help me.

"You fucking bastard!" Seth tugs us back into a sitting position, one arm still slung carelessly over my shoulders. "You can't return an email or a text these days?"

I fist my hand in the back of his shirt, laughing as I speak. "Seth, I replied to you two days ago! What the hell are you doing here? I thought that you were going to Montana with your parents on vacation?"

We pull back, wearing twin grins of devilish glee.

"Eddie, have you ever been to Montana?" he laments, giving me the long-suffering look that I know and love. "There's fuck all to do. I hopped on a bus the second my mom's back was turned, and so I thought… hmm, where do I really want to spend my vacation? And then it hit me – why not go and visit the hottest guy in Navarro County?"

I laugh and slug him on the shoulder, rolling my eyes.

"Well, I'm so fucking happy to see you!"

Seth glances down at my lap and then swiftly averts his gaze. I follow his trajectory and nearly cringe when I realize that I'm sporting a serious boner.

"I can tell," he quips, winking.

I smile. "Uh, well, actually that was… you know what, never mind." I really don't want to get into the whole almost-moment with Jasper.

Shit, Jasper!

Just as I remember that he's still in the room, Jazz clears his throat loudly and obnoxiously.

"Oh, shit, Jasper, sorry!" I babble. Seth starts, angling his body so that he can finally get a look at the guy I've been whining about all the live-long day.

His face is turned away from me, so I don't see his assessment.

"This is Seth Clearwater, my best friend from New York," I introduce Jasper. "Seth, this is Jasper Hale. He's the one guy that makes this fucking town bearable."

Seth grins widely in Jasper's direction. "Oh, the quarterback. I've heard about you."

I subtly try to elbow him in the ribs when Jasper isn't watching.

"I wish I could say the same," Jasper says, sounding uncharacteristically terse, "'fraid I don't remember hearin' anythin' about you."

Seth's eyes light up, and he grins even wider. I wonder what he's thinking. "Would you listen to that accent, Eddie? Pretty hot, huh?"

"Seth, don't." I really don't want him making Jasper feel uncomfortable.

I think I'm too late, because Jasper looks way beyond merely _uncomfortable_. He looks like someone's just punched him in the face.

"Sorry. So, anyway…" Seth flops down onto my bed, crossing his arms over his chest and grinning up at me, sanguine as ever. "Tell me about how things have been going around here. Your mom is making sandwiches for us."

* * *

"Seth, do you want me to make up the sofa for you?" Mom asks, round about eleven, once Jasper has headed home. Seth shakes his head at her from her position in my bedroom doorway.

"Naw, Esme, it's fine. I'll just bunk in with Eddie. You know, steal his covers, kick him in the nuts when he's sleeping, that sort of thing."

Mom laughs. She's always had a soft spot for Seth. "Okay, dear. Whatever you boys want."

She knows that our friendship is totally platonic. Seth and I are 'girlfriends' as Collin likes to put it. Much in the way that Rosalie and Bella are.

"I vote 'no' on the getting-kicked-in-the-nuts part," I say, raising my hand in protest.

"Shut up, Edward," Seth replies cheerfully. "Nobody asked for your opinion."

I roll my eyes at him. Mom laughs again.

"Okay. Goodnight, boys." She withdraws from the room, shutting the door behind her. Immediately, Seth pounces, twisting around on the bed to regard me seriously.

"So," he begins. "Jasper fucking _hates_ me."

I've never heard a person sound so gleeful about that fact.

"No he doesn't. Jasper doesn't hate anyone."

"Pah!" Seth scoffs, waving one hand at me in dismissal. "He fucking hates me, Edward! I've got half a mind to call him and tell him that Medusa needs her withering glare back! Oh my god, though, isn't this great?"

"You have an odd definition of the word 'great', Clearwater…" I muse.

"No, I don't. He hates me because he's jealous!" Seth actually bounces a little on the bed in his childish joy.

"He's not jealous. Don't be ridiculous."

Seth scoffs again, louder this time. "Edward, puh-lease! He was fucking green with envy! Every time I so much as looked at you he seemed like he wanted to tear my head off. Yay!"

I frown at him. "You scare me, sometimes, you know that? How is him not liking you a good thing?"

He rolls his eyes. "Duh! Because him hating _me_ means that he clearly likes _you_!"

"Of course he likes me," I dismiss. "We're friends."

"No, he _like_ likes you," Seth assures me confidently.

I arch one eyebrow. "I didn't realize we were dealing with the elementary school definitions of the word 'like'."

He swats at me. "Oh, come on! He's into you, Edward. Big time. How can you not see it?"

"Because I'm not deluded."

"Edward, for fuck's sake! He was being all passive-aggressive whenever I spoke to him, acting like a fucking jealous boyfriend! It was beyond obvious! Is there something wrong with you _mentally_ that means… actually, what am I saying? Of course there is! A guy who looks like that is completely drooling over you, and you are doing _nothing_ about it. You're clearly mentally challenged."

I roll my eyes at Seth again. "You're reading too much into it."

"You aren't reading enough into it," he argues. "Trust me. So, we need to figure out a way to make him just admit how he feels."

"You. Are. Completely. Retarded." I enunciate, and Seth grins widely.

"Maybe. But you are completely in there. Oh, God, if only I'd been here sooner, this would've all been cleared up months ago!" He sighs. "Never mind, Eddie, Cupid has arrived, just in time for V-Day."

* * *

Me, Jasper, Emmett and Seth are all having a movie night one Saturday, nearly three weeks after Seth arrived. Emmett and Seth are arguing their way through Die Hard, debating the most efficient way to kill someone – I swear, sometimes, I don't even want to know what is going on inside Clearwater's twisted mind, and Jasper and I are sitting together on the couch, all tangled up in the same blanket as we attempt to watch the movie over the others' bickering.

I can't even tell where Jasper starts and I end when we're all caught up on the sofa like this, and it's the awesomest feeling in the world.

I sneak a peek at him, and he just looks so fucking hot, golden curls all mussed up and blue eyes staring intently at the screen with a slight crease in between them from his effort to concentrate.

"Jazz?" I whisper, and those eyes slide over to meet mine.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of Seth?"

I'm anxious to know, because Seth has stuck firm to his whole 'Jasper is insanely jealous' theory for the past eighteen days, and I'm starting to think he might actually be onto something about Jasper not liking him, at least. He _is _a bit frosty towards him.

Jasper tenses.

"He's… yeah, I mean, he's okay. A nice enough guy, I s'pose."

That's a noncommittal answer if ever I've heard one. "Well, that's a lukewarm seal of approval."

"What would you need approval for?" Jasper's brow furrows.

I take a brief second to ponder whether or not to tell the truth, and say that I don't need approval for anything. Then the little Seth-devil on my shoulder whispers in my ear.

_Make him jealous. _

So I give him a stony, are-you-serious look.

Jasper's eyes widen. "You're not, like…" He sucks in a breath."You're not into him, are you?"

Carefully, very, very carefully, I shrug. I hope the gesture looks casual rather than acted. "Not really, but, I mean, I could be. Maybe. It's worth a shot."

"No, it ain't." Jasper says sharply. Too sharply. I glance into his eyes, and I'm surprised by the vehemence I see reflected back at me.

"What? But I thought you said…"

"No, Edward. You can't go there. Just, please, don't."

"I'm confused." And I really am confused. Is this jealousy, or something more nefarious? "I thought you said that he was okay. That he was a nice enough guy."

"Well, yeah, but…"

"But, what?" I prompt. Is this nothing to do with him liking me, like Seth thinks? Is this because we're finally actually talking about gay stuff, and he's not as cool with it as he pretended to be before? "You just don't want to have to look at me hooking up with another guy?"

"Yes," Jasper answers brusquely. "That's exactly what I'm tellin' you."

My mouth drops open.

"I like that you wait until you've been my friend for five months before you unleash your inner homophobe, Jasper. Nice. Real nice." I disentangle my legs from his – though it actually hurts me to remove physical contact, and I pull myself off the couch. Confused, a little hurt, and, yeah, if I'm honest, kind of rejected, I propel myself forwards and perch on the arm of the La-Z-Boy that Seth has claimed for the evening.

He shoots me a questioning look when I sit down.

I just shake my head slightly in answer.

Sensing the need to distract me, Seth starts prattling on about anything and everything. I listen without really listening, because I'm still reeling from Jasper's unexpected reaction to our fairly innocent conversation. It's not like I even talked to him about sex or anything, so I don't know why he's so weirded out when he's always been fine before. The thought hurts like hell.

Jasper leaves for the kitchen and returns with a beer a short while later.

By the time Emmett bids us goodnight and shuffles out the door, Jasper's on his sixth beer, and our earlier tension seems to be water under the bridge. That's a relief, because I don't know what I'd do if I actually had a fight with Jasper. I don't know how I could survive it if our friendship was ever compromised.

Jasper heads back into the kitchen to get another beer while there's an ad break, and Seth turns to me as soon as he's out of earshot.

"I have an idea."

"Whatever you're thinking, Clearwater, don't."

"Hear me out."

"You have five seconds."

"Okay." He grins. "Kiss me."

"What?" I say sharply. He snickers.

"Kiss me, and we'll see if Jasper really is jealous."

"I don't think that's a good idea," I hedge.

"Don't you want to know for sure?" He tilts his head, listening. "I think he's coming back. It's now or never…"

Before I have a chance to tell Seth, again, why it would be a colossally bad idea, he leans forward and presses his mouth against mine. Seth and I have made out before, never seriously, and this has the same air of social experiment about it. It's clinical – no passion, no emotion, just a theory to be tested. I find myself getting caught up in the 'what if' that Seth has laid out for me.

What if Jasper sees, and he is jealous?

What if he does want me?

The next thing I notice is Jasper stalking past us on his way towards my front door. I break away from Seth, and he's watching Jasper's retreating back, looking smugly satisfied that he's been proved right.

I'm not so sure. I have a horrible aching feeling in my gut that this is not the reaction I wanted.

"Jasper?" I call, but he doesn't slow. No… he just slams the door.

_Oh, shit._

I'm up and out of my seat, out of the front door, chasing Jasper halfway along the street as he makes a hasty beeline for his shit-heap of a car.

"Jasper!" I yell.

He doesn't stop.

I break into a run, catching him up and seizing him by the arm in order to spin him around and make him look at me directly.

"Get off me!" Jasper hisses, wrenching his hand out of my grasp. I feel like he's just spat on me or something, and tears instantly burn behind my eyes. Not once has Jasper ever pulled away from me like this.

"What the hell?" I reach for him again, but he backs up, out of my reach.

"Don't fuckin' touch me!" His nose is wrinkled, his eyes narrowed to slits. In the dim light, they glitter way more than they should_. _"I don't want you to come anywhere near me."

"Jasper, what the fuck is this about? You were fine a minute ago!" I protest. I've never seen his mood change so drastically, and he's scaring me.

No, he's fucking terrifying me.

"Oh, just fuck off and go back to your fuckin' boyfriend, Cullen!"

I flinch, because the venom in his words hurts worse than a physical blow would've. "He's not my boyfriend… that was just, I don't know, friends messing around a bit. I'm sorry if you felt like I was ignoring you or something, but…"

Jasper sneers. "Whatever it was, I don't care. Just… leave me alone. I don't even wanna look at you right now."

"Because you saw me kissing Seth?" My forehead crumples in bewilderment and hurt.

Jasper is livid. I've never seen him so incensed. "Fuck yes, because I saw you kissin' Seth! I feel fuckin' sick to my stomach."

Sick to his stomach?

Like I'm disgusting?

Like I've done something wrong?

I see red.

My nostrils flare. My hands clench into fists at my sides. My eyes narrow in his direction.

"What happened to 'I'm cool with it'? Oh my God, Jasper, you're such a fucking asshole!"

I can't believe he's doing this. I can't believe this is his reaction to who I am, something I can't help.

I thought we were friends.

I thought he cared about me.

I even thought that he might, possibly, like me a little. In that way.

I'm such a fucking idiot.

He's just like the other people in this godforsaken town. The ones who whisper behind my back and make passive-aggressive digs at me to my face.

He thinks gay is wrong.

He thinks I'm wrong.

I make him sick to his stomach.

And now, Jasper has the nerve to reach out to me, like he's trying to comfort me or something. I slap his hand away visciously. I don't ever want him to touch me again.

Betrayal.

Heartbreak.

I'm crying, I think, though I'm not going to wipe my eyes and give Jasper the satisfaction of knowing how much he's breaking me apart inside.

"Edward…" Jasper gasps.

"Stay the fuck away from me, Jasper." My words catch around the lump in my throat. "Just leave me alone from now on."

I can't bear to look at him any longer.

Looking at him is nothing but pure agony.

I turn on my heel and march back into the house without a backwards glance, slamming the door shut behind me.

Seth's waiting in the hallway. He takes one look at my face, and bites his lip.

"Shit, Edward, I'm so fucking sorry!" he breathes.

I glance up at him. My lip trembles.

Then I can't hold it in any longer, and I sink to my knees, sobbing as my heart tears itself into shreds in my chest.

* * *

**Edward's perspective on the fight. My poor, poor boys and their miscommunication bullshit. I just want to give them both a hug. **

**I'm interested to know, as an additional thought, people's perspectives on Seth. Love him or hate him? I feel that he's probably a marmite kind of guy. I'm a marmite kind of gal, so I'm sticking with the solidarity of love 'em or hate 'em types.**

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**PJ**

**x**


	7. March (Part One)

**A/N - Hello, all!**

**I know it's been a while, RL problems and the suchlike, but here we have the newest update, and I'm hoping to get back to my regular postings now that everything has calmed down a bit!**

**Hope you like it! (Edward certainly did).**

* * *

_**Seven**_

_**March (Part One)**_

* * *

_You have five new messages from JASPER. Delete? Respond?_

I stare at my phone for what feels like the hundredth time today, trying to work up the nerve to press the 'delete' key. I haven't listened to any of my voicemails. I can't seem to get the courage together.

Jasper keeps calling me. But to say what? Is he polluting my inbox with hate mail, or apologies? I can't tell. It really sucks that I can't tell.

Just as I'm staring at my phone, it starts to ring again. It's not Jasper, this time. It's Emmett.

I stare at the screen for a few seconds before hitting the 'answer' button. Swallowing thickly, I hold the phone up to my ear.

"Hey, Em."

"Edward, man, how are ya?" Emmett's voice sounds just as cheerful and normal as ever. It's something of a relief.

"I've been better," I answer honestly.

"You and Jazz both, man," Emmett replies. "Edward, I ain't exactly gonna pretend I even know what sorta shit went down after I left that night, but it's been ten days, and neither a you two are sayin' a dang thing to each other. I'm worried. Jasper looks like a fuckin' zombie walkin' around school."

I've noticed, but that doesn't make me feel any less like I'm dying inside whenever I pass him in the corridors. "Yeah, well…"

"Can you just do me a solid and come down to Rhonda's this evenin' after practice? I think you really need to talk to the guy."

"I don't have anything to say," I respond flatly. It's true – nothing Jasper would want to hear, anyway. I'm not going to apologize for being gay. I'm not going to seek out the company of someone who apparently hates me for who I am.

Someone who I'm also in love with. Fuck no.

"Please? Look, man, I don't wanna get in the middle of this shit or anythin', but he's goin' around actin' like someone's died. It's bummin' the whole team out, and plus, I hate seein' him this way. You gotta at least try and talk whatever this is out. You guys are like, best friends."

"Correction," I say softly, attempting to speak around the sudden lump in my throat. "We were best friends. Now, we're nothing."

"Bullshit. Whatever the fuck you two are, it ain't nothin'. He's actin' like you dumped his sorry ass."

"Emmett…" I swallow hard and try again. "I didn't do anything. This is Jasper's problem, not mine."

"If you care about him, or if you ever even did, don't he deserve a chance to get heard?"

"Oh, believe me, I heard him loud and clear." And I've been hearing it over and over again in my fucking nightmares every time I close my eyes since.

"Just show your face for five minutes. What've you really got to lose?"

I consider Emmett for a moment. He might have a point. I'm already heartbroken and miserable, and since Seth left last week, I'm also alone. How much more could five minutes in Jasper's company really hurt me? I'm already broken beyond repair.

"Okay, fine," I sigh. "I'll come down for five minutes. But then I'm leaving."

"You're a good guy, Edward."

* * *

I don't feel like a good guy as I stand outside the diner, willing myself to go in and face whatever conversation I'm about to have.

I feel like a fucking idiot.

Worse, like a fucking idiotic masochist. Am I just a glutton for punishment? Why did I even agree to this in the first place? It's bad enough reliving the horrors of Jasper's vitriol pouring from his mouth, but actually hearing it in stereo all over again?

I'm insane.

Taking a deep breath, I reach out one hand and push open the door. The bell chimes loudly, announcing my arrival. My eyes immediately scan the area for some sign of Jasper.

I spot him instantly. His blond head is bowed over something as he sits, hunched in a booth in the corner. The way he's sitting, so round-shouldered and defeated, tugs painfully at my heart.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Oh, right. I love him.

Even if he is a fucking homophobic asshole.

I sure can pick 'em.

Steeling myself, I make my way over to the table. I can see Emmett standing by the dark wood bar, one elbow propped up on the surface as he chats amicably with Rhonda, the matronly owner and namesake of the diner. His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a small, grateful smile.

I feel too nauseous to even return it. Instead, I nod grimly.

My heart is hammering in my chest like a drumbeat by the time I reach Jasper. He's staring down at his phone, not texting or anything, just looking blankly at the screen. It's almost like he's willing it to ring or something.

I'm not naïve enough to believe that he's hoping for me to call him.

Pushing back a chair, I sink down opposite him. I would stand, but my knees are shaking, and I'm not entirely certain that they'll support my weight.

Suddenly, he glances up, and his entire body seems to lock down in astonishment. His dark blue eyes stretch wide, wider than I think I've ever seen them go. So wide that I'm kind of worried that they'll fall right out of their sockets. His lips part, and a soft, slightly strangled sound escapes him.

Up close, I realize, Jasper looks _terrible_. Like he hasn't eaten or slept in weeks. His complexion, usually golden, has a slightly grayish tinge to it, and there are bruise-like purple shadows in the hollows under his eyes. It gives him a gaunt, washed-out look that immediately makes me think that Emmett's concern is not unfounded. I bite down on my lip to stop myself from blurting out an apology he doesn't deserve, just to get the haunted look off his face.

My heart is clenching and unclenching painfully as we regard each other in silence.

"Emmett told me that I had to meet you," I say, finally, when it becomes apparent that Jasper isn't going to be the one to break the silence. "He said you're in bad shape."

"I am," he agrees, chewing down on his chapped bottom lip. His eyes dart to the side, and it seems that his next words are pulled from him without his volition. "I… I miss you."

The waitress comes over and sets down a plate of fries in front of Jasper, momentarily blocking him from my view. He glances down at the food, a perfunctionary look, but nudges them away with the side of his hand, looking queasy.

He really does look like he's going to be sick.

Sort of like when he saw me kissing Seth.

"You miss me?" I hiss, feeling a brief flash of anger. "Then why the fuck did you speak to me the way you did? Why did you make out like I was some disgusting thing that you couldn't bear to have around you? Why did you run out of my house and push me away because I was kissing Seth? _Why_, Jasper?"

I can feel the burn of unshed tears in my eyes, and I will myself not to let them fall. I don't want to cry in front of him. His blue eyes flicker across my face, and I can tell from the sudden panic there that he can tell I'm nearly crying, anyway.

"The things I said, Edward… you took them the wrong way. That's not what I meant, when I said that. I was angry, and it… none of it came out right. I'm not a homophobe, I…" he trails off, running one hand through his lank hair.

But he doesn't complete his sentence.

I sit there, watching him play with the fries on his plate.

Watching him determinedly staring down, not meeting my gaze.

He can't even look me in the eye anymore.

I don't know if that's because of Seth, or me, or himself. Maybe it's some combination of the three.

He can't even man up and tell it to me straight.

His lips part again, forming silent words, but he changes his mind before he can voice them aloud. He shakes his head slightly, like he's trying to clear water from his ears.

_If you aren't a homophobe, then what's your problem, Jasper?_

I don't want to be the one to speak again. I want to hear something from him, this time.

Looking at him in so much anguish is shredding my insides.

His eyes snap up, taking in everything around me without actually meeting my gaze. He's good at that, I realize. Looking at nothing and everything at the same time. That thousand yard stare that chills me to my very core.

I click the ball of my tongue piercing against my teeth, an unconscious, impatient gesture.

_Fucking say something!_

The only sound coming from our table is his nervous shifting in his seat, and the tap, tap, tapping of the metal stud of my piercing hitting the enamel of my teeth.

He drops his gaze back to his plate, shoulders sagging in defeat.

I can't believe it.

He still hasn't looked me in the eye.

He still hasn't said a fucking word.

Un-fucking-believable!

"Are you really just gonna sit there and not say anything?" I demand, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. The gesture is as much to keep myself together as it is to indicate my waning patience.

His mouth opens again, and I can tell he's really searching for words. I've never seen him struggle so much.

"I don't know what to say," he mumbles eventually.

What a fucking joke!

He knows exactly what he wants to say to me, he just won't say it.

I may not know much anymore, but I can still say that with certainty. "That's never stopped you before," I point out.

_Come on, Jasper. Just say you're sorry. Please. Please be sorry._

He doesn't say it.

"You know," I say, struggling to keep the tremor out of my voice. "I thought you were actually different from all the other cretins in this fucking town. I guess I was wrong."

He flinches at my words, but he doesn't argue with me.

Which, really, should be as good as a confirmation that he is just like everyone else in this godforsaken place.

I still don't want to believe it, though. Not of him. Not Jasper. Anyone else, but not him.

He's still not talking.

I huff loudly, exhaling an angry breath through my nose. "Fucking say something, Jasper."

I know he can feel my gaze burning a hole into him as he shifts in his seat, but he won't look up. He won't speak, either.

Abruptly, I've had enough.

I won't subject myself to this emotional torture anymore.

The Jasper Hale that I thought I knew… well, he doesn't exist, clearly.

I stand up suddenly, bracing my hands on the table as my chair scrapes back across the tile floor.

Finally, finally, Jasper meets my eyes. Indigo blue as ever, they still take my breath away, even when I'm trying so hard to curse his very existence. I work to keep my expression impassive.

I don't think I do a very good job. Fury is burning behind my eyes – fury at him, at myself, at this whole fucked up situation. He's looking at me with a pitiful expression on his face, one that seems to wound me deep down into my core.

I'm trying so hard to ignore the ache in my heart.

_I can't believe you'd do this. _My eyes entreat him. At least we can have one of our silent conversations, even if he can't speak out loud.

His eyes seem to beg with me. _Please understand, Edward. _

I don't know what it is I'm supposed to be understanding. _Why can't you just apologize? _I think, willing him to get the message. An apology wouldn't fix everything between us, but it would be a great place to start.

At least then, I'd have hope.

He looks lost. _I don't know, _his eyes seem to say. _I don't know why. _

But it's not good enough.

"Fine, then." I work to keep my anger contained, at least on the surface. I can't believe that Jasper is throwing away our friendship like this. "Fine, then," I repeat. "I thought we were friends, but clearly, I was wrong. Friends don't do what you did. And, even if they do, then they _at least_ have the fucking _balls_ to apologize for it."

"You're right," he whispers, looking wretched. I'm sick of the kicked-puppy look.

"I'm right? That's it? That's all you've got to say for yourself?"

And he says nothing. Big fucking surprise.

"You know what? Fuck you, Jasper. _Fuck you_. You're a fucking coward," I spit, and I jerk myself away from the table, storming straight past Emmett as he makes his way back over. He reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder, but I knock it away.

I don't want his comfort.

I don't want any of this.

I want to go home.

Practically ripping the door off its hinges in my hurry to put as much distance between Jasper and I as is humanly possible, I storm out into the parking lot, making a beeline for my Volvo.

I tug open the driver's side door furiously and launch myself into the seat, bracing my forearms across the steering wheel. I press my face down onto my arms, attempting to calm my ragged breathing.

It doesn't work.

Instead, I burst into tears.

* * *

When I get home, I run straight past my mom. She calls up after me, but I ignore her, thundering up the stairs as fast as my legs will carry me. Once I reach my room, I slam the door shut, collapsing face-down onto the pillow. I don't care that my eyes are red and blotchy from crying.

Instead, I just give into the sobs. I let my misery take me, and as my shoulders shake, I dimly realize that, while there is something cathartic about crying, it isn't actually mending the hole in my heart any. I feel so isolated and alone, and the one person in the whole town that I would usually lean on at a time like this is the reason for my agony.

I can't breathe.

I can't think.

I miss him. Even after everything he's put me through, even after everything he's said, or not said, seeing him today cemented that longing in my brain.

I want him back.

_Suck it up, Cullen. _I chide myself, but my heart isn't listening anymore. I don't really know if it ever did.

Suddenly, there's a loud rap on my door. I know that it's probably my mom, checking in on me. Outside my window, a gust of wind rattles the pane. Looks like there's a storm raging.

"Yeah, come in," I call, brushing away the excess water from my eyes and cheeks.

The door opens slowly, and my heart nearly arrests right there in my chest.

Jasper.

He's standing in my doorway, one hand on the handle, dripping rainwater onto my carpet. His golden curls are plastered to his head, and his t-shirt is see-through, clinging to every muscle of his defined torso like a second skin. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him. How can someone who looks so perfect cause me so much pain?

"What do you want, Jazz?" I murmur.

He looks at me evenly, and for a second, I don't think he's going to answer. Again. But then, he speaks, and his voice comes out clear and strong and deep, sending a sharp, stabbing pain through my chest. "Edward, we need to talk."

"Come to twist the knife in some more?" I spit, making a choked noise that sounds like some approximation of a laugh. Nothing about this is remotely funny, so it isn't a very convincing one. "Now that I have a queer friend to hang out with, and you don't have to be polite and pretend you like me anymore?"

"That's not…" He runs one hand through his wet hair, spraying water droplets. "It's not fuckin' like that, Edward."

"Yes, it is. You never really even cared about me, did you?"

His hands fist at his sides. "Yes, I did!"

"Save it, Jasper. Save your apologies. I don't want to hear them."

And then, childishly, I turn my face away. I can't help it. His gaze is burning into me, and it's too intense. Looking at Jasper like this is like gazing directly at the sun. It'll cause me serious damage if I do it for too long.

Suddenly, he's shouting.

"Fine, Edward!" I flinch at his volume, but he doesn't lower his voice any. "Then hear _this_. I'm not sorry! I'm not sorry about offendin' Seth! I'm not even sorry for fightin' with you!"

I whip around at this, my mouth already open as I prepare myself to tell him to get the fuck out of my room, and my life, and everything else to do with me, but something in his expression stops me. He looks mad, sure, but he also looks like he's hurting.

Like I'm making him hurt.

I wasn't expecting that.

Jasper continues, "I'm not sorry that nobody else can make me laugh the way you do! I'm not sorry that you make me feel good, and strong, and like someone people should admire! I'm not sorry for the way I feel when you touch me! I'm not sorry for only ever feelin' really, truly alive when I'm with you!"

Wait, _what?_

What?

_What?_

His eyes blaze like blue flames as he stands, tall and strong and totally sure of himself. I've never heard conviction like this from him before, and my heart stutters violently in my chest as I hold his gaze. "I'm _not_ sorry, Edward! I'm not sorry about any of it, but most of all, _I am_ _not fuckin' sorry_ for bein' in love with you!"

My chin hits the deck.

Did he just say…?

I'm dreaming. It's the only logical explanation. Because it sounded for all the world like Jasper just told me that he's in love with me.

It's not possible.

Is it?

I can't breathe. _Shit, Edward, breathe_!

Jasper watches me watching him, breathing hard like he's just run the Chicago marathon or something. With hesitant movements, he turns slightly to shut my bedroom door over fully. The lock clicks.

He walks with purpose, closer to me. I watch his progress without speaking.

I couldn't form words if you paid me a million dollars.

He loves me?

Is this a joke?

Slowly, he lowers himself onto the mattress to sit beside me, eyes never leaving my face.

I still can't believe this is actually happening.

"Ah, fuck it," Jasper whispers.

Then he leans over, and presses his lips to mine.

I gasp at the contact, feeling Jasper's mouth against my own. His lips are so soft, and also weirdly familiar. I feel like I've done this before, or maybe it's just the fact that my heart is nearly bursting clean out of my chest with the incredulous joy threatening to overtake me.

My hand slides into his hair as my lips begin to move in earnest against his. He pulls me closer, and I grip at his wet t-shirt, not caring that it's probably making me damp, too. Jasper's mouth coaxes mine open, although it doesn't take much coaxing, and then his tongue brushes over mine. He groans as I return the gesture, one of his hands sliding up the muscles of my back.

Holy shit, this is really happening.

Jasper Hale is making out with me.

He tastes like a residual tang of cherryade and something deeper, headier and more organically Jasper. I can't get enough.

He's not pulling away. He's pulling me closer, tongue exploring my mouth, lips insistent on mine.

"Fuck… Jasper… what…?" I gasp, in the brief moment that our kiss is broken. "I don't…"

"For once in your life, Cullen, shut the fuck up," he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal. It goes straight to my already aching cock, making my whole body convulse. "Just shut the fuck up and kiss me."

I almost want to rein him in, to ask him exactly what the fuck is happening, but he's looking at me right now like I invented sex, and he'd like me to show him how it works, so I relent on conversation with a low groan, pulling his face back to mine. Jasper shoves me backwards onto the pillow, sliding one knee between my legs as he hovers over me, not crushing me, but not giving me room for escape either.

Not that I'd fucking want to.

My fingers bite into the firm, hot skin of his hips as I cling on for dear life, trying to make sure that he's really here, that we're really doing this. His kisses are fierce enough to bruise, angling my head back against the pillow with the completely heavenly pressure of his mouth crushing against mine. His tongue is deep in my mouth, and mine in his, and he seems to share my desperation, at least for the moment.

He breaks free of the kiss, leaving me panting for air, and immediately drops his mouth to the underside of my jaw, trailing soft, wet kisses along my skin. I writhe underneath him in sheer pleasure at the sensation.

"Fuck… Jasper… you're a fucking amazing kisser," I moan, and I can feel him grinning in satisfaction against my throat. Then, unexpectedly, his tongue darts out, sweeping along my skin like he's trying to taste as much of me as possible.

I can't help the whimper that escapes me.

"Back at'cha, darlin'," he teases, and I suck in a surprised breath at the endearment. It's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever heard.

He continues his assault on my neck, all teeth and tongue and gentle suction, and my hands clutch at his waist desperately.

This is better than all of my dirtiest fantasies.

"Oh, fuck!" I gasp.

"More?" He pulls his head up to look me in the eye, and his blue irises sparkle with feverish desire mingled with fiendish delight. Then he's attacking my neck again.

"Oh, God, Jasper!" I cry out, and my hips rise off the bed, seeking friction. I'm met with empty air, because he's deliberately holding himself too far above me for us to touch. I groan in frustration.

"You're so fuckin' noisy," he half-chuckles. "Your mama's gonna hear you and come runnin'."

"Don't… care…" And in this moment, I really, truly don't. Let her come upstairs. I'll gladly take being grounded for a few more minutes of this. "Don't… stop…"

"I don't plan to," Jasper vows, rocking back onto his heels. The fire in his eyes scorches me, and my breath hitches. "Lose the fuckin' shirt, Cullen."

He doesn't need to tell me twice. My t-shirt is up and over my head faster than you can say – well, anything. I don't even see where it lands. Jasper's gaze rakes over my torso, as tangible as a physical touch, and then he is actually touching me – his fingers sliding down my chest, making me shiver. His hands trail lower, over my abs and down further still, towards the V of my hipbones. I'm trembling with the effort of holding myself back as he traces the pattern of my tattoo with his index finger.

And then his breathy, heated voice breaks the spell with something random and unexpected. "This must've been fuckin' embarrassin' to get tattooed onto you. I mean, it's mostly covered up by your jeans. Didya have to get naked?"

I grin up at him, entertained by the question. A part of me loves that he can still make conversation when we're doing _this_. "Yeah, actually. Well, not totally naked, but he definitely got a good look in."

"Prick," he pouts, and then grins again. I notice that his lips are swollen from my kisses, and feel a swell of possessive pride.

"I don't think I did anything for him, to be honest," I recall. Nor did he do much for me, either. Huge bearded guy by the name of Tony.

Jasper scoffs. "Then he's fuckin' blind."

My breath catches in my throat. Slowly, I reach up, sliding my hands up his sides, gathering the material of his t-shirt in my fingers as I go. He watches me, breathing hard, gaze heated, as I tug it up and over his head, letting it drop to the floor near my own. I admire him unashamedly for the first time ever, taking in the sculpted planes of his chest, the hard ridges of his abdomen, still damp with rainwater. My palm rests on his abs, just above his navel, and all of his stomach muscles contract in unison at my touch. My skin is so pale next to his golden tan, but the contrast looks good. Jasper smiles widely when I meet his eyes, and my heart swells.

"You're so fucking beautiful," I blurt, and his smile widens so far that it looks like it might break his face in two.

Then I shift out from underneath him, and he opens his mouth like he's about to protest, but I push myself up onto my knees, facing him, and he promptly shuts it again. He's still, just watching what I'm about to do next, a combination of fascination and desire on his face.

I curl my hand around his hip, tracing tiny circles over his hipbone with the pad of my thumb. Jasper's breathing is shallow and rapid as he watches me lean forward and brush my lips against the join between his neck and shoulder.

I feel a thrill of satisfaction when his whole body shudders.

Then, slowly, I begin to kiss my way down his chest, savoring the feel of his skin under my mouth. Jasper groans quietly, his hand fisting in my hair, and then gives a sharp hiss when my tongue flicks out against his nipple. He tastes like rainwater.

"Edward…" he moans, and the sound is music to my ears.

His hips jerk forwards, but my hands on his waist keep him still as my tongue continues to trail down his body, forming a warm, wet path, dipping into his bellybutton, down, down, until my nose brushes the soft trail of hair that runs below the waistband of his jeans.

"Jasper," I murmur. "D'you trust me?"

"Yes," he breathes instantly, a slight tremor to his voice. "I trust you."

"D'you want me?"

He glances down at the erection straining against his jeans, an amused smirk twitching the corners of his mouth. "Yes."

"Good."

I seize him about the waist and flip him onto his back on the mattress. For a second, he looks taken aback, and then my fingers are at the button of his jeans and he stills, just watching me carefully.

I glance up at him through my lashes. "If you want me to stop, just say so."

To my delight, he shakes his head emphatically.

I pop open the button. Pull down his fly. Then I'm tugging at the waistband of his jeans, guiding them down his thighs and…

Fuck.

He's going commando. I giggle slightly.

"Fuck, Hale, that's pretty hot."

I suck in a breath as his cock springs free, long and erect and just fucking beautiful. It twitches slightly as I gawp at him in admiration.

My eyes meet Jasper's again, and he looks a little nervous, though not in a bad way.

"Damn," I whistle, showing my approval, and Jasper laughs.

I can't wait any longer. With a grin, I duck my head down and pull him into my mouth.

Jasper gasps loudly.

I suck him in further, hollowing my cheeks, and he lifts his hips off the bed to meet me, driving himself further down my throat. I'm not complaining. It's so far beyond incredible, actually being able to taste him like this, to see the way his eyes are narrowed in pleasure as he looks down at me.

I shoot him a wink, and then flick my tongue stud against the vein on the underside of his dick.

"Fuck!" Jasper arches backwards, flinging his head onto the pillow. Well, hell, if that wasn't the best reaction in the entire fucking universe.

I chuckle, which causes him to moan. Propping himself back up on his elbows, he meets my eyes.

_Enjoying yourself, Hale? _I try to communicate.

His eyes are glittering as he almost seems to say, _Well, duh._

My eyes shine with my disbelief. _I never expected you to feel this way about me in a million years__._

And, weirdly, he seems to be looking at me like I'm missing something crucial, _You're kidding, right?_

We're both frozen in our silent conversation, my mouth still firmly around his shaft, but as he reaches down to brush the hair out of my eyes, I realize why kissing him before had felt so familiar.

Because it was familiar.

Because we've kissed before today.

_The motel… it wasn't a dream, was it? _I implore him.

He understands my silent question, because he speaks aloud, his voice low and gravelly, his eyes burning with quiet fervor, "No, it wasn't a fuckin' dream."

I slide my mouth off his cock and practically dive up the bed until I'm lying on top of him, my mouth seeking his. He answers my kiss with an almost bewildered enthusiasm, palms flat against my spine.

"Fuckin' hell," he pants, when I pull away for oxygen. "I've literally never seen you this excited in the six months I've known you."

I remember saying the same thing to him, once. I give him a coy grin. "Yeah, well… you know I've always loved you."

Jasper laughs deliriously.

I scoot back down the bed and take him back into my mouth again, sucking fiercely as my tongue slides in the opposite direction along his cock, taking him deeper with every pull. It doesn't take long under my ministrations before Jasper's hands are in my hair, and he's moaning an incoherent stream of cuss words.

"Fuck… oh, fuck… holy shit… ohmyfuckingod… _Edward_…" I press my tongue stud against the vein again, and he bucks upwards. "So… fuckin'… good…"

When I pull up, I graze my teeth lightly over his sensitive skin.

"Oh… fuck… Jesus…"

I slam my mouth back down, quickly, swallowing as his head hits the back of my throat.

"OH!" he cries.

I continue my relentless assault, dipping my tongue into his slit, sucking him all the way to the back of my throat. His eyes are slitted when I sneak a glance at him again, and he looks so fucking beautiful, all flushed like that…

I can tell he's close, but there's one request I have to make of him first.

I release his cock again, and this time, there's a frustrated, almost angry groan.

"What the…?"

"I want to hear you say my name when you come," I demand, not bothering to mess around.

"Yeah, I…" I'm already taking him down again. "Oh, shit!" My tongue swirls around his head, and as I dip back down, I feel his dick pulsing in my mouth.

"Edward! Oh… fuck… _Edward_!"

There is no sight in the world that is sexier than Jasper's orgasm right then. I drink down the salty, musky taste of him, savoring it, until he's totally spent. He collapses backwards on the bed, still trembling with the aftershocks, and I tuck him back into his jeans before re-zipping his fly and planting a kiss on his stomach, just above the newly reinstated waistband of his jeans.

I crawl up the bed while Jasper's still getting his breath back.

"That was…" he gasps. "I mean… you were… fuckin' hell!"

I shoot him a lascivious grin. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"That was the best fuckin' blowjob I've ever had!"

And then he seems to realize what he's just said, and he gives a little start of surprise, blinking spastically. A laugh bubbles up from his lips, and he claps one hand over his mouth.

I give him a questioning look. "Jazz?"

_Please don't let him regret that…_

He exhales softly, smiling. "I just… I can't believe this is happenin'."

I tip my head back against the headboard and laugh in relief.

"Believe it. Trust me, it's better if you just roll with the crazy."

I roll over so that we're nose to nose, and Jasper leans forwards and captures my lips, like it's the most natural thing in the world for him to kiss me. Like it's something we've done forever. We trade soft, lazy kisses for a while, and I just revel in the taste of him, the feel of his mouth working in tandem with mine.

"Mmm…" He strokes one hand along my hip, and I cup his chin to pull him closer to me.

He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, and I grunt in wordless approval of the action. _God, he's an amazing kisser_.

And then, abruptly, I'm on top of him, and our kisses are feverish and demanding again, his tongue warring with mine as his hands wander all over my body. I'm so hard that it's painful, and every throb of my swollen dick is making my head spin.

"Ugh!" I grunt, as he drags us both upright into a sitting position, and our erections rub against each other. His hands are still roaming freely over my torso, but I tense up when I feel his fingers sliding under the waistband of my sweats.

"Edward…" he murmurs against my mouth.

"Jasper…" I say, my breathing labored. "Just… because… I… did… doesn't… mean…"

The last thing I want is for him to feel pressured into returning the favor to me.

"Edward, shut up. I want to." His tone leaves no room for discussion.

I study his face for signs of apprehension carefully, but I find only a single-minded resolve. He rolls us over quickly, pressing my back into the mattress this time, and smoothly tugs my sweats down to my knees. The cool air hits my overheated dick, and Jasper's eyes widen to the size of saucers.

I chuckle at the daunted look on his face. "You don't have to."

"I want to," he says stubbornly. "But I… I don't know what I'm doing."

I can't help but chuckle again. His nerves are so… cute. And kind of unexpected. Jasper has an air of confidence about any task he sets himself. "It's not rocket science, Jazz. Just go with your instincts. It'll feel good, anyway, cuz it's you."

He blushes scarlet. "O…K…"

His hands ghost over my hipbones, lower than before, and I suck in a breath through my teeth. Fuck. I haven't been touched like this in a while. And this is _Jasper_. My dream guy.

I need to reassure him one more time while I still have the mental capacity to do so. "Not too… late… to… back… out," I remind him, each word punctuated with a heavy breath.

Jasper's eyes meet mine again, and the blue fire is back. He grins.

"Fuck, no."

The next thing I feel is Jasper's tongue gliding up the underside of my cock.

Holy fucking shit.

He tentatively pulls me into his mouth, and I hiss in pleasure. This is… well, there aren't fucking words for how good this feels. His tongue swirls around the head, his movements getting bolder when he glances up to see my reaction. I'm chewing on my tongue ring in an effort to contain myself. An effort that will probably end up futile.

He swirls his tongue again, taking more of me down this time, and my fingers clutch at fistfuls of my sheets as I hiss sharply. "_Fuck_."

Emboldened, Jasper starts to relax, pulling me deeper into his mouth. I'm watching in awe as he slowly sucks me in, inch by inch, until, suddenly, unexpectedly, my head hits the back of his throat, and he swallows around me.

My back arches, and I gasp, "Holy shit, Jasper!"

He continues, settling into an up-and-down motion, but his tongue is still swirling, and I can't concentrate under the onslaught of incredible sensation. Embarrassingly, I don't think that I'm going to last long if he keeps this up.

"Oh, fuck… god… oh… god… fuck… Jazz… don't stop… _fuck_…"

His eyes meet mine, and just the sight of him looking up at me through his lashes is enough to bring me to the edge. I make an effort to loosen my grip on his curls, gasping out a warning.

"Jasper… I'm gonna… come… move… or… I'll…"

He surprises the hell out of me by pinning my hips down when I try to move, and then slamming his mouth back down with the greatest suction yet.

"Oh, God! Jasper!"

My eyes burn into his as I come undone. I explode in his mouth, unable to move, and I see a moment of shock registering in his eyes before he swallows around me, and I watch in amazement and awe until I'm too overcome to hold my own weight, and I collapse backwards onto the bed.

His mouth releases me, sliding my sweats back into place. Incoherent, floating on cloud nine, I roll forwards onto my face, muttering strings of complete nonsense into my pillow. I can feel Jasper's eyes on me, but I can't string a sentence together yet.

"Edward?"

I peek up at him, still in wonderment. I can't quite believe that he's real, even after what he's just done. His blue eyes sparkle in the soft lighting.

"Are you sure you've never done that before?" I check.

He swats at me, but I dodge the blow. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, then, you've got a hell of a lot of natural talent, Jazz."

Jasper looks smug as all hell. "You know, when I came over here, I expected you to toss me out on my ass."

"What, this ass?" I slap his backside playfully.

He yelps, and then lets out a peal of infectious laughter. "Yes, that ass."

"I was intending to, until you told me the truth."

"And now that I have?"

A grin stretches across my cheeks. "There's no fucking way I'm ever tossing you out of here."

Jasper smiles broadly. "I guess this means I'm forgiven."

My blissful grin intensifies. "I'm sorry, was I mad at you? Must've slipped my mind."

"Kinda like what happened on New Years."

"Yeah, well," my smile is shy this time, and I feel my cheeks heat up a little. "I figured it must've been a dream, because I didn't actually believe I could get that lucky."

"Looks like you were wrong."

"Looks like. Hey, Jasper…" I sneak a sideways glance at him, a smirk twitching the corners of my lips upwards. "Don't take this the wrong way, or anything, but… I think you might be gay."

"Really?" Jasper drawls, deadpan. "I had _no_ idea."

His lips twitch. My lips twitch.

We burst out laughing.

* * *

**There we have it. March (Part One) from Edward's perspective. **

**Also, for anyone reading NY who doesn't know yet, there's a new chapter up!**

**Thanks for reading! :)**

**Kisses,**

**PJ**

**x**


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